Blinking Child
by lizzbizz357
Summary: On the small island of Salus, located in the north blue, a mountainous ship shaped as a whale docked with one sole purpose, find an herb for their massive captain. They will soon find out though, that nothing ever goes as planned, especially for pirates. This the story of a young girl, and her amazing adventure like life. I don't own One Piece
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

On a small island named Salus floating in the north blue, a mountainous ship shaped as a whale docked with a single sole purpose. To locate and obtain a seed for their father and captain. They will soon find out though, that nothing ever goes as planned, especially for pirates.

Marco, the first division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, had volunteered to go inland on the hick island located somewhere in the North Blue. He usually let Rakuyo keep track of their location while sailing out on the sea. But today, Marco's job was simple enough, find an herb called Crataegus Oxycanthus. Now it didn't matter that the name was overly complicated and had problematic pronunciation, well it may have mattered a little, but what was really important was that it would ease the strain of his captain's heart. Ever since a year or so ago, Whitebeard had been experiencing trouble with his heart, along with a myriad amount of other ailing, his heart had been the most concerning out of the lot. Even though the ship's doctor, Jim, had told Whitebeard that his drinking would send him into an early grave, Whitebeard would laugh it off and go on a rant about brats these days while pouring himself another drink. So the crew came up with a compromise, Whitebeard can drink to his heart content, pun intended, but he has to take a dose of Crataegus Oxycanthus every week. And this had been working fine up until their dealer ran out on their agreement, claiming it was hazardous to his health to be dealing with pirates. In reality, it actually proved to be more hazardous to run out on a pirate's agreement.

Now Marco was forced to wander the island's only town looking for an herb shop. He had to cajole the directions out of terrified sailor at the town's shabby port. And even with those directions, he seemed to be going in an endless circle. Everything on the island was nondescript and unremarkable, no land marks except for a giant hill off in the distance. Marco's been to a lot of islands in his lifetime, but he had to chop this one up on the top five list of the most boring islands in the sea. He couldn't imagine living there, he'd probably end up shooting himself out of boredom.

Combing over the directions in his mind again, he tried to remember if he was supposed to left at the mundane lamppost or right. He scratched his head, his fingers travelling through his yellow hair. If Thatch was with him, he'd probably tell him he had a bird brain. Who was he kidding, he'd probably still tell him that when he got back to the ship. Flipping a mental coin, Marco went right. But even after that brain splitting decision, he was faced with yet another turn. For such a midget island, there were a lot of streets. At this next turn though, Marco suddenly noticed an alley with a sign pointing down into it. The sign read Miss. Lynn's Herbs. Marco swept through his mental directions, this wasn't where they lead to, the shop was supposed to be next to a tree, or was it a marquee? Did it really matter? No, probably not. An herb shops and herb shop right? Marco veered down the alley and towards Miss. Lynn's Herbs.

The door to the shop was old and rickety with rusted hinges, the windows were clouded and had fractured cracks throughout it, the whole thing screamed sketchy. As Marco tentatively twisted a disease infected looking doorknob, a tiny, chipper bell rang throughout the cluttered store. Shelves that reached the ceiling filled the whole store. Atop the shelves were jars of different shapes and height, each contained a variety of colorful herbs, both liquid and solid. Some seemed to contain other substances, substances that seemed closer to body parts than plants. The more pungent smells seemed to leak through those specific jars. It infected his nose and stained his palette. He would need some really strong liquor to get rid of the stench. The only clear path in the whole store led to a high desk in the back of store. An aging woman sat behind the desk, a permanent scowl dominated her face. Marco assumed that women was Miss. Lynn. Honestly, she seemed way too old to be a Miss.

Mustering all the pleasantness Marco had stored within him, he asked the woman, "Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me?"

Miss. Lynn looked from the papers she was sorting through with an unnecessary vengeance. Once she set her eyes on him, her scowl deepened to an uncomforting level that would make a normal person flinch. She briskly whipped her gaze away from him and back to her papers, "Get out"

"What?"

"Get out" she repeated, not bothering to look back up at him. Her paper shuffling becoming nearly violent.

Marco wasn't sure if he was understanding the situation correctly. According to his memory, he has yet to say anything rude or mean, yet being the keyword, and this lady was acting as if he had kicked her puppy. Sure, he's killed people, but he could honestly say that he had never kicked a puppy before. Marco decided to rephrase his question, in case this 'miss' was heard of hearing, "I'm in town looking for some Crataegus Oxycanthus, and I think it's commonly used for-"

"Get out" she roared, shoving the creased and crumpled papers onto the desk, shaking the rickety old thing straight to its joints.

It was his turn to scowl at the woman, sleepy eyes turned hard and serious, "What's wrong? I just want some herbs? Isn't that what you do?!" His voice had risen to a shout.

She slowly relaxed into her chair, gripping the edge of the desk with a steel hold. She managed to hiss out from between clenched teeth. "We don't do business with pirates"

"Why not?" Marco stalked closer to the desk, his eyes baring into hers. They held the fierce stare till Miss. Lynn broke the silence.

"You are despicable people, now would you get out of my place of business. I have no qualms with contacting the marines, I bet they would love to know where one of the four Emperors crew was located," she breathed, she laced every word with a sort of hatred that comes from pure and unadulterated abhorrence. Marco was almost frightened at her level of antipathy towards pirates, but refused to back down.

He was about to retaliate towards the woman, if words don't work, then maybe his flames would. He was losing his temper, and fast. His palms were already sparking with the raw power of his phoenix flames as the woman started to lean over the desk, her meaty fist clenched tight. The ominous air of an impending fight was broken by the crisp ring of the bell attached to the door. Marco eased himself around slowly, keeping one eye on Miss. Lynn while he inspected the new arrival.

The new arrival was a young girl. Short, wavy hair framed her face, two pieces curled around her cheeks, one partly covering her right eye. The color was a dark blue, a blue that reminded him of the New World's eternally stormy seas. Her big eyes were a dark green, similar to the moss that grew up and around trees. She was a tiny, frail thing, she couldn't be over the age if ten. A giant metal collar like necklace was around her thin neck, her white dress that could easily be mistaken for a sack hung limply on hollowed out collar bones. In her stick arms was a basket filled to the brim with herbs. Some in particular that looked like a picture Jim had shown him earlier that day.

"Oi, girl!" The child flinched at his raised voice, "I need those herbs."

This got a reaction from Miss. Lynn, "Mila! Get out now!" She nearly launched herself over the counter at she yelled.

The girl, Mila, was shocked, confusion marred her face, "What's wrong? I thought you needed these," she lifted her basket of herbs. Her arms shock weakly at the weight of the plants.

"No, not anymore, just go!" She swung he arm toward the door, beckoning her to leave.

Mila slowly backed out the door, concerned laced her features. She backed out of the store, pressing the door open with her back, her eyes trained on Marco and Miss. Lynn. She hugged the basket to her chest as she scurried out the door.

Marco curiously glanced at the woman again once the child left, "Who was that?" A sly smile spread across his face, his mind churning.

"None if your business, now get our or I'll call the marines!" She snapped, her clam composure flown out the window.

Marco grinned, "Of course, I shall see you again" with a tip of his head, he left the store. And as he darted after the girl he heard the sound of a bottle shattering against the door he had just excited out of.

Mila POV

I wonder what was wrong with Lynn, she seemed so tense. She was usually in a sore mood, but today she just seemed downright terrible and for no apparent reason. Maybe I had brought her the wrong herbs or maybe it was that I interrupted her while she was with a customer. Maybe it was because I flooded the kitchen this morning trying to make breakfast, or when I tripped and broke the vase. Maybe there was reason for her mood after all.

Well, at least she'll be happy when she finds the herbs I gathered for her on the windowsill.

I was walking around the back of the shop when I heard something. I tried to jerk around to see what had interrupted the clam silence of Salus Island, but like always, I felt impossibly tired, so I just glance over my shoulder. My hair fluffed over my shoulder as I did so. I couldn't see anything behind me, so I continued towards Lynn's and I apartment above the store, chalking it up to my imagination playing tricks on me.

Even though we live together, Mrs. Lynn and I don't live together. She was mandated by the World Government to by my guardian. It wasn't a particularly ideal situation. Mrs. Lynn usually didn't take notice of Mila often, probably resenting me for having to babysit me on Salus. The island where nothing to ever happens. When Mrs. Lynn does acknowledge my existence, it is to yell at me or order me to go out and gather an herb for her. A particular nasty jo since all the good herbs were on the other side of the island, which meant crossing the giant hill in the middle of the island, and with my condition, that was almost impossible.

If I had any choice in the matter, I would choose to go live with my parents. I have no memory of them though. I was repossessed by the government at the age of three.

I was about to ascend the appalling stairs that lead to our apartment when a man cleared his throat behind me.

"Excuse me,"

I turned around to see the same man from the store standing just a few feet away from me. The man made my brain itch, as if I've seen his face before. Could he be a- no, why would a pirate ever come to Salus, "Yes?"

"Well, I was wondering if you would come with me for a bit?" His sleepy eyes looked as if they had whirring gear behind them. This man was surely up to something.

I regarded him carefully, not sure I should reply or run. Running would be a great escape, but only if I could move faster than a snail's pace. And by the look of the yellow haired man, he was in great condition. He could easily take down a normal ten year old, but me? Too easy. "I think I should go. . ." I decided on saying while slowly backing away from the man, hoping to inch my way closer to the stairs.

Without another word, the strange man darted forward and hooked his muscular arm around my tiny waist and took off, me in tow.

"Excuse me!" I shouted over the sound of his feet against the cobbled street, "I'm not comfortable with this situation in the slightest!"

The man refused to listen me as he raced down Main Street with me in his arm. People on the streets stopped what they were doing to stare at us as we zoomed past.

"Isn't that Mila?"

"I think it is, but who is that man?"

"Don't you know? That's Marco The Phoenix, the first division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates!"

"A pirate?!"

"Does Miss. Lynn know?"

"If she did the town wouldn't be in one piece, someone tell her!"

"Alright!"

Before long, we cleared out of town and at the docks, the very edge of the island. I've never been to the docks, I have only ever been allowed to go farther inland. Lynn says the sea is an awful place, not that I really believe her. The alluring blue of the sea could never be described as anything but majestic.

"I'm not allowed to at the docks," I protested when the man stopped running and took a clam stroll down the wooden dock. The boards creaking under his sandals as he moved at a leisurely pace.

He kept solemnly quiet as he trekked on, this pushed my nerves further off the edge, "I want to get down, let go of me!" At first it might have been a little exhilarating being carried through town, but now the man was scary, I didn't trust him in the least. I started to kick my small legs, pushing my nonexistent muscles to the max. They soon began to ache in protest and I let them fall. Not giving up on the prospect of escape, I put my arms to the test. My arms were as weak, or weaker than my legs, so they didn't last very long after I started my pursuit.

The man ignored my best attempts and readjusted me in his arms, securing me in his arms, ensuring I had no chance of escape. I banged my arms one last time against his taunt back, my fists uselessly bounced of his back. Frustrated, I let my body go limp, attempting to weigh myself down and make it harder for him to carry me any further. He grunted at my limp weight and I smirked. It was cleanly wiped off my face when he flipped me over his shoulder, my head then buried in his back. Drooling or spitting on his back briefly ran through my mind. The reasonable side of me, the dominant side of me, claimed that that was gross and below me. Giving my mind and body a break, I let the yellowed hair man carry me down the docks.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Marco POV

The tiny girl who I just sort of kidnapped continued to mumble absolute nonsense about the evil docks and I once thought I heard her compare me to a dumb Satan with bad hair. Even after I was forced to toss her over my shoulder to stop her insistent squirming, she continued to protest. The closer we got to the Moby Dick, the more I started to regret my whole plan. Children were not my particular expertise.

As we came to rest in the shadow of the Moby Dick the girls annoying, relentless chatter and complaints stopped. The sight clamed me, but it didn't settle my hesitation building in my gut. The largest battleship to ever sail the sea was the only real home I had ever experienced. Until I became a part of Whitebeard's crew I've never truly felt at home anywhere, not even when I was a child. This strong and powerful ship was the embodiment of her trusty captain.

Using my well-toned legs, I propelled myself off the rotting dock onto the sturdy deck of the Moby Dick. I secretly hoped that my brothers were being stupid and dangerous somewhere other than the deck. Maybe causing havoc in the kitchens or in the armory, even playing with the cannons, I just hoped they were somewhere else when I brought my kidnapped child aboard.

Sadly, that was not the case, for most of the division commanders were lounging around on the main deck playing cards. Being the same useless, lazy bunch as always.

Thatch, the fourth division commander, was laying on his back, looking up at the clouds. He was the first to welcome me back, "Hey Marco, did you find..." He pauses as he sat up and observed the tiny thing thrown over my shoulder, "it?"

"Well, he found something," pointed out the tanned 5th division commander, Flower Sword Vista, as he causally twirled his black mustache around his finger. He sounded fairly amused by the whole situation.

"Really Marco? Is it really that hard to get a date? I'm sure there are plenty of legally aged girls who would love to be your sweet heart." Thatch laughed. I scowled at him, and yes it is hard to find a date now a days. Was I going to admit that to Thatch, hell no.

Instead, I just mumbled "it's a long story,"

"Can I get down now?" The girl squeaked from her position in my arms. I had momentarily forgotten about my limp luggage, I was too busy being ridiculed and slightly embarrassed.

As a response to her question, I dropped her. That was apparently the wrong thing to since all the commanders started yelling at me the instant she squeaked on impact.

"Marco! Are you heartless?"

"She's just a little girl!"

Izo, the cross dressing commander of the sixteenth division, swooped in from nowhere to come to the girl's aid.

"You angel, are you okay. Did the beastly pineapple man hurt you?" Soothed Izo, stroking the kid's stormy blue hair with one hand and putting the other on her knee like a doting mother would do.

The girl laughed, completely unaffected from the drop, "He does looks like a pineapple!" She burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Her tiny shoulders heaving.

I rolled my eyes, "she's fine," I say, and start to walk towards Pops room. I regrettably needed to inform him of our new guest. I couldn't even imagine how the conversation would go over. Hey Pops, I kidnapped this kid on a whim after a store keeper pissed me off, can we keep her? Yeah, it wasn't going to end well.

"Where are you going?" Thatch asked.

I simply replied, "Pops,"

He cleared his throat, "I think you left something," Thatch jerks his head towards Mila, who sitting contently on the deck while Izo hovered and fussed over her.

I am not bringing my kidnap victim to talk to Pops. I feel like he wouldn't take my report as well. So instead, I kept walking.

Mila POV

The pineapple head had left me alone on a strange ship shaped like a whale with a bunch of strange men and one weirdly dressed woman. What kind of child care is this?!

"Darling girl, are you sure you're okay," that strangely dresses woman has been hovering over me since pineapple head had dropped me, and she was still concerned that the slight tumbled had permanently damaged me. She was a very strange lady, her voice was really low and she was virtually flat chested. Maybe that's why her traditional kimono was so low cut. There was a saying, 'if you got it, flaunt it' I guess in this case it was the opposite.

I nodded, I shouldn't judge people by their looks, just like books. Only books were better than humans in basically every aspect.

"So little chicky, how'd you get messed up with the one and only Marco the Phoenix?" Said a tall man with a brown pompadour hairstyle, and a black goatee around his chin. He also had a scary looking scar around his left eye. He had an easy laugh and a big smile, a smile that hurt my eyes if I stared too long. It was nauseatingly happy.

I look at him blankly, he tried again, "Pineapple head,"

Oh, he should have just said so, "He came to Miss. Lynn's shop, and we met there."

"Who is Miss. Lynn?" Asked the strange woman, leaning away from me.

"She's my legal guardian" I say.

"Where are your parents?" The lady asked cautiously, afraid of what my answer might be.

I shrugged, "I don't remember ever meeting them,"

A look spread across the deck, it held a mixture of understanding and sadness. Why did they look like that, it's nothing to worry about, I can't miss someone I've never met.

"Um, Miss, where am I?" I asked the lady. She gave me a curious look, while the man with the big hair and scar fell over laughing. The lady shot a glare at him, which only made him laugh harder. I didn't understand what was so funny though. Maybe the guy with the hair was wrong in the head, which would explain a few things.

"Well darling, you're on the Moby Dick," she said smoothly.

"Home of the Whitebeard Pirates!" Cheered a large man with four tiny little buns popping out of his head and a strange goatee, the other men started to whoop and cheer along with him.

Wait, pirates? Oh no, this would not end well. I abruptly stood up, I quickly brushed off the dirt from my old white dress, and took a deep bow, my hair falling in front of my face as I did, "I am very sorry!" I said as loud as I could.

"Child, you haven't done anything wrong," the lady said, a concerned expression swept over her made up face.

I shook my head, "You don't understand, I didn't do anything, it's what's going to happen because I'm here."

"And what's that?" A tanned man with a curly black mustache and a top hat asked.

"Miss. Lynn will come and get me, and she doesn't like pirates." I explained.

The man who was laughing had stopped, and returned to an upright position, "and why would that be a problem?"

"Miss. Lynn is a Vice Admiral of the Navy."

Everyone got really quiet and solemn all of a sudden.

The lady spoke first, "Darling, who are you?"

"I'm Mila."

"And why is a Vice Admiral your guardian?"

"Because I have stuff for the government, so they don't want me to get lost,"

"What kind of stuff?" Asked the big haired man with morbid curiosity.

"Well," I started, not sure how to explain it. I've always had trouble communicating with people. Not having any friends or family will do that to a person, "I keep all this stuff in my head, and it's really important."

"Wait," the big haired man's hands shot up, halting her, "so, do you mean you have, like actual things in your head, or like information?"

"Don't be stupid Thatch, that's impossible." The lady scolded the man with the big hair, the one she called Thatch. Then she looked at me, "right?"

I nodded, "They give me papers with numbers and stuff on them, and I store them in my head for them."

"Do you mean you have government codes mesmerized?"

I nodded, the man who came every month said so.

The men all looked around, some men shared a glance, and silently nodded at each other.

"I think it's time you meet Whitebeard, Mila." Thatch smirked at me. Who's Whitebeard?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Marco POV

I shoved my hand through my hair nervously, but due to its short, choppy length, I didn't have much to work with. The bright yellow color did make up for the lack of surface area, but unfortunately, it did make my head resemble a pineapple. I like my hair, don't get me wrong, but Thatch constantly reminding me, and the rest of the crew, didn't help my pride. Birds are said to be vain, which Thatch also likes to bring up often, but isn't it normal to be offended by the comparison of your head and that of a large, yellow fruit. And now the ship's new addition had dubbed me 'Pineapple Head', and my day wasn't even done.

Within Pops' quarters, blanketed over us was a thick, intolerable silence which coated us for a total of six minutes after I had told him about my slight escapade in town. I've done plenty of stupid things on the time I've been on this world, but out of the whole crew, I was christened the responsible one. I've gained and managed to retain this title because when I think of doing something idiotic, my mind flashes to Pops. Him and his steely gaze baring holes into my soul, making me feel a million years younger than I was. That is almost always a sufficient ward for staving off obtuse thoughts like, for example, kidnapping a small child.

The deafening silence flooding the room was broken by an eager whack against Pops' door.

"Yes?" Pops said after breaking the intense stare he was holding between us.

Thatch's hair popped through the slim crack he had made in between the door and the doorframe. "Hey Pops, do you got a minute?" he asked, sounding excited. An excited Thatch was never a good sign, destruction or chaos usually followed in an excited Thatch's wake.

Pops unclasped his hands that had been firmly placed under his chin and relaxed farther into his giant chair, "Yes, come in,"

Thatch emerged from the thin stretch of deck boarding Pops' quarters, but not alone. In followed Izo, and attached to Izo's hand was my very own kidnap victim. Both her tiny hands gripped Izo's one large callused hand. They weren't clutched in fear or desperation, far from that, Mila looked ecstatic to be touching Izo. She seemed just to enjoy the feeling of another human being, and was soaking it in as much as she could.

Pops only raised his eyebrow an inch at the sight of the small girl clinging to Izo with a smile on her face. Mila took no notice of Pops, at least if she did, she didn't react to his giant stature. Her gaze instantly flew to me, or more accurately, my hair. "Pineapple head!" Mila chirped excitedly, her big green eyes peeking through her blue bangs.

"Sorry to disturb you Pops, but I think you need to hear something," Thatch shoot a glance at Izo, his stupid smirk plastered on his face.

Izo caught Thatch's gaze and gently unwound his fingers from Mila's small hands. Izo put his hand on her back encouragingly, "Tell him what you told us about the marines."

Mila nodded, almost unconsciously leaning into Izo's hand as she spoke, "My guardian us a vice admiral, 'cause I have numbers and letters and stuff in my head that some big men said were really important-"

I stopped her at the beginning of a seemingly speedy rant, and lengthy, "the lady at the store is a vice admiral?"

She nodded, "Thunder Fist Lynn,"

Izo blanched, "Thunder Fist Lynn is Miss. Lynn?"

Mila nodded again, seeming unimpressed, Pops chuckled, amused by her expression, "Seven years ago all the papers said the famed Thunder Fist Lynn had retired, but she was really here." Whitebeard smiled at her, "you must be important."

Mila shrugged, "I know stuff."

Pops nodded, "Boys, could you leave us for a moment," this clearly wasn't a question, it was a command.

Izo respectfully bowed his head and turned to leave. When Thatch didn't move, Izo grabbed him by his yellow scarf and dragged him outside while he dug his heels into the floor. I hesitated, Mila was rocking on her heels absently, staring longingly at Pop's extensive book collection pushed off to the side, this young child was certainly strange, but that didn't necessarily mean she was dangerous. But she was connected with the government. And god knows we've had a rough relationship with them already. Pops caught my hesitation and nodded at me, his expression told me it was okay. He knew of my hesitation to leave him with someone connected to our eternal enemy, but assured my with a single glance that he had it all under control. I glanced once more at Mila before leaving, she caught my fixed look and smiled.

I eased the door shut behind me, securing it without a sound. Without a warning, Thatch nailed me in the arm, my tiny blue flames sparking up in response to the abuse. "What did I do?!" I hissed at him.

Thatch arms flew up, I was obviously nowhere nearly as distraught about this as Thatch thought I should be. "You closed the door!"

I rolled my eyes, "So?" I slumped against the wall next to Pop's door, ignoring Thatch's antics.

"Well, now how am I supposed to ease drop?" He protested.

"You could put a glass to the door?" Izo recommend sarcastically as he slid next to me rubbing his temples irritably, easing his weight against the door alongside me. No one could survive Thatch's hijinks for long without prolong stress issues.

Thatch contemplated this as he stroked his goatee in deep thought, "that might work," he said as he nodded his head solemnly, really considering the idea.

"I was just kidding," Izo protested halfheartedly.

Thatch ignored him, "Gimme a sec, I'll be right back," he darted away at an alarmingly fast and determined pace, his banging shoes a warning to all below deck.

"Last time I checked, he was banned from the kitchen," Izo commented flatly as he increased the pressure on his temples.

I nodded calmly, "He set it on fire when he was trying to make cookies and blew up the oven."

Our thoughts were confirmed when we heard vicious yelling and pot banging from below deck. I shook my head, Thatch excelled at causing mischief, and blowing things up. Especially blowing things up.

Thatch raced towards us once again, he had only attained a few scratches from the cooks, and the only major injury was absorbed by his hair. It was crooked first of all, but it also held a variety of cooking utensils in its gel covered clutches.

"I got it!" Thatch held up a glass in triumph, a tiny chip was taken out of the edge.

I rolled my eyes as he put the glass to the door backwards. "Wrong way, idiot."

Izo clicked his tongue at him when he blushed and flipped it the other way. He excitedly glued his ear to the glass, eyes squinted in focus.

"Can you actually hear anything?" Izo asked as he leaned in closer to Thatch. I resisted the urge to shake my head at Izo for getting entangled in Thatch's foolery, but it was easy to get coaxed to the dark side. After all they do have cookies.

He nodded, enthusiastic, "she's saying something about eating, blinking, wearing a necklace, and something about being tired."

"That means nothing to us out of context," Izo said, annoyed, slowly pulling away from Thatch and his tomfoolery, "are you sure that's what they're actually saying or-"

"Wait!" Thatch cut him off, holding up his free hand and swiftly shoved it on Izo's face, covering it completely with his palm, "I think Pops just said something about a devil fruit,"

This peaked my interest, I gave in and leaned closer to the two, "She's a devil fruit user?"

"Yup, or he said level loot."

Izo glared at Thatch for his vapid comment, "I doubt he would say that,"

It was my time to glare at them, they were bickering like children. "Can you hear what they're saying now, Thatch?" I said, focusing Thatch on the task at hand.

Thatch frowned at me for interrupting his argument, but replaced his ear back on the cup anyway, "No, I don't hear anything,"

"Nothing?" Izo asked curiously concerned, leaning back in towards Thatch. Thatch nodded in conformation.

I suddenly jerked away from them, a realization hitting me, "Thatch, get away from the door!"

It was too late, the door was yanked open, and Thatch tumbled through, along with his stolen glass.

Pops towered in the doorway, looking disapprovingly at the Thatch at his feet, "Marco," Pops said in his fatherly voice.

"Yes?" I said as I struggled to stifle a laugh at Thatch's expense.

"Remind me to give the ease dropping talk again, I believe the last one didn't stick."

I nodded, trying in vain to wipe the smile clear from my face. Spying from behind Pops specially made pants was a stormy head. Mila clung to Pops pant leg with the same ferocity she had with Izo's hand. A ghost of a smile haunted her face as she absently leaned her head against his leg while listening to Pops and I. She locked gazes with me and her smile brought her face back to life. I tried to no avail to return a smile as equally bright and rapturous as the one Mila seemed to whip out at a moment's notice. The amount of joy such a small girl could produce with a single smile was disconcerting

Pops continued delivering orders as Mila let her more of her weight ease up against Pops' leg, "Izo, gather up the commanders, we're meeting on the main deck, Thatch, apologize to the kitchen staff for breaking their glass," Pops directed, "and Marco, come with us."

Izo charged off to the dining hall, where the most of the commanders could usually be found due to the presence of immense amounts of food stored there. Unlike Thatch, who slowly dragged himself up from the ground to make his walk of shame back to the kitchen.

I pushed myself off the wall to stand beside the duo as they started their journey to the main deck. Mila, with all the strength she had, tried to keep up with Pops. She took three steps for every one step he took. A both saddening and adorable sight. Like watching a baby duck try to keep up with its mother, but the mother forgot to wait for its tiny duckling and continues on without it, leaving the duckling quacking in desperation, only ever wanting to be by its mother's side. Mila was one determined duckling, she was huffing and puffing as she tried to keep hold of Pops pant leg. Pops seemed to notice the girl struggling, because he reduced his pace significantly. Mila savored in the slower pace by clinging to his pant leg harder. I smiled at the odd pair. Whitebeard had never slowed down for anyone, which was how he got to where he is. But one of the four emperors slowed down for a child of the government. I don't know why that was such a satisfying sight to me, but my grin seemed to grow.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Marco POV

By the time we reached the deck, Mila was panting and out of breath. Even though she looked completely healthy and vibrant, she was impossibly weak. Using up so much energy to keep up with Pops had worn her completely out. How could she have eaten a Devil Fruit, I thought.

Pops took a seat at his spot on deck, sitting in his throne like chair, a perfect spot to watch over his sons. Mila sat at his feet, trying to catch her breath after what seemed like a marathon for her. I took my usual spot on Pops right. I spotted both Thatch and Izo standing by the railing, I also noticed that Thatch had received another bump on his head, no dubitably from the cooks. All the commanders were gathered, and most of the rest of the crew too. I am always taken aback when I see us all together like that, I kept forgetting that we were one of the strongest crews on the sea. It's always a pleasant surprise though.

The crew's loud chatter was dulled as soon as Pops took his seat. "You men are here so I can make an announcement. This is Mila," Pops nodded down to the girl at his feet, a few men who had met her when she first came aboard shoot her a friendly smile, "right now, she is property of the government as a human database." A few whispers of confusion were spread across the deck, but were silenced, "She holds all the top-secret documents from beginning of the Word Governments founding. She also knows how to decipher the government's codes." Cries of shock rippled through the crowd as the tiny girl sat there, completely oblivious to their conversation. "We are freeing her from her imprisonment by the government and giving her a place on this crew. But first," Pops motioned for Vista to come forward, "we will cut all her ties from the World Government. Mila would you stand up for me?"

"Sure!" Mila pushed herself up from the ground and stood a little away from Pops.

Pops continued again, "The government made this child eat a devil fruit at the age of three, then bound her powers until it was useful for them, Vista, free Mila from her collar." Vista unsheathed his sword. Everything started to make sense now, her necklace was made sea prism stone, and she was so weak all the time because she_ was_ a devil fruit eater. When I really think about it, she's not weak at all. With that much sea prism stone, a child her age shouldn't be able to move. And for her to be as energetic as she is, is amazing. Vista raised his sword preparing to release her from the collar.

"STOP!"

Vista lowered his sword to respond to the disturbance. It was Izo. "What's wrong? Do you not want to free this brat from the World Government?" demanded Pops.

"Of course!" Izo said, and walked forward toward Mila, "I don't want to ruin this gorgeous hair though." Everyone laughed at Izo as he bundled Mila's hair in a yellow ribbon. When it was secularly fastened with a bow, he said "You may proceed,"

"Thank you Onee- san," Mila thanked Izo. I sighed, she thought Izo was a woman, that was going to be an awkward explanation.

Vista raised his sword again, and this time swung it down onto the collar, as the best swordsman on the crew, this was an easy job for him. The collar was cleanly cut and popped off her neck and fell to the floor with a freeing thud.

Cheers erupted on the deck, only to be quieted by a wave of Pop's hand. "Mila, you have a choice to make now. Do you want to become my daughter and take up my mark and set sea with us, the Whitebeard pirates?"

Mila looked up at Pops, eyes wide, "Am I really allowed to?"

Pops chuckled, "You are free to do whatever you wish from now on."

Mila turned around and gazed at the crew, her eyes focused at Thatch and Izo. They both nodded encouragement and smiled, her eyes moved from one of my brothers to another, I could see her tiny brain working out her predicament through her eyes. Then those big mossy green eyes focused on me. That child was one of the most interesting things to have ever fallen onto the Moby Dick, it would be a shame to let such a girl go.

Mila POV

I was on a pirate ship. I was on a pirate ship, without my necklace. I was on a pirate ship, without my necklace, being offered to become a pirate myself. And I think I wanted to say yes.

Everything about this situation was like a dream, I felt like I could run miles I had so much energy. People were even smiling at me, that's something I have barley experienced my whole. I had a warm feeling spreading throughout me, it felt so nice, and I never wanted it to go away.

I looked back up the man called Whitebeard. He was an amazing sight, scars littered his cheats, muscles rippled throughout his body. He was like a hero from a book, so very powerful, but with a pair of warm eyes and a kind heart. I liked talking to him, and wouldn't mind it again.

"I won't have to leave?" I asked, trying not to get my hopes up.

A smile spread across the man's wrinkly face, "Not if you don't want to."

I nodded, confident in my decision, "Good, because I don't. I want to stay here."

When I said that, all the men on the strange ship started to yell and cheer. I was absorbed into hugs and handshakes from the many men as they surged toward me. Names and questions were being thrown out at random. I had trouble trying to keep everyone straight. Everything was so overwhelming. Then I remembered that I was free now.

I smiled at the men around me, and blinked. I appeared on top of the mast, laughing to myself as the men looked for me. It felt so good not to be restrained by that stupid collar. I could use my devil fruit powers now. I looked around the crew once more, looking for someone in particular now. Soon I spotted the yellow head, equally befuddled by my disappearance. Giddy, I blinked again. This time I appeared a few feet above Marco's pineapple head. I fell into him, my arms outstretched. He was stunned by my appearance and stumbled back as he took on my weight.

I warped my arms around his neck tightly, "Thank you so much for kidnapping me!" I yelled. It was thanks to him that I was free, I owed him everything for taking me from Miss. Lynn, even if it was against my will for a while.

I could feel Marco smile as he wrapped his arms me, returning my hug, "Anytime kid,"

Onee- san and the big haired man called Thatch came running towards Marco and I. "That was so COOL!" Thatch screamed

"It was very impressive Mila, you have a very good handle on your devil fruit powers." Onee-san complemented me.

I blushed, being praised was also new to me, "Thank you," I buried my head deeper into Marco's neck. I felt his chest rumple with a chuckle at my reaction.

"What devil fruit did you eat?" Onee-san asked.

I peeked up from Marco's neck, "I ate the Mabataki Mabataki no mi (blink blink fruit)."

Thatch inched closer to me, his hair only inches away from me, "So, can you fight with it?" he whispered, keeping his eyes on Onee-san. It looked like he was trying to hide something.

I shrugged, "I've never tried." Miss. Lynn had always forbidden me from any physical sports or activities. Secretly, I've always envied the village children who played soccer in the square or got dirty while playing in the mud. "But I would like to." I said with conviction. That's what pirates do, they fight, or at least they do in all the files I've decoded.

"NO!" Onee-san yelled. "I will not allow such an adorable child to participate in you barbaric fights." She waved her finger violently at Thatch. He recoiled away from Onee-san, afraid of her viscous wrath.

I'm confused, I thought I could do what I ever I want now? I looked up at Marco, who was laughing at their trifle, he wouldn't know how to answer me, and he was still a stupid pineapple head. My gaze swept across the deck, seeking someone who could answer my questions. I spotted my next target. I blinked up onto Whitebeard's shoulder, straddling it with a leg one both sides. I've neer ridden a horse before, but this was probably what it would have felt like. Whitebeard was HUGE.

Whitebeard only looked mildly curious by my spontaneous appearance, "I have a question," I proclaimed as close to his ear as I could.

He raised an eyebrow, "Yes?" there was a hint of humor laced in his voice.

"Am I allowed to fight?" I asked. Only then had Onee-san and Thatch looked up from their fight to notice that I had changed perches. Marco was relaxing against Whitebeards arm rest, looking fairly amused by the whole situation.

This got a chuckle out of him, "If that is what you wish." I smiled, satisfied with the answer.

"Pops!" Onee-san was astonished, "She's just a child, she could be killed!"

Pops nodded, "Right now she would," I scowled at Whitebeard, "but she has brothers to protect her now till she learns to fight properly."

Onee-san admitted defeat on the topic, but I was still a little confused on one thing, "I don't have any brothers." I protest. I actually might, but since I don't know who my parents are, I don't know if I have any siblings either.

Whitebeard's laughter filled the ship, I liked the sound of it, throaty and deep, straight from the chest, how a laugh should be. "Didn't you listen? You're my daughter now, and these are your brothers!" he made a wide swiping gesture around the deck, "This is your family now!"

Everybody cheered at Whitebeard's proclamation, I could only stare at the crowd. Family, the basic unit in society traditionally consisting of two parents rearing their children. A theory amost completely foreign to me. I've read about the premise, and it's fairly basic. But it's one thing to read about it and experience it. In my books, it talks about geology and ancestry. They discuss parenting methods and disciplinary actions. Not once have they described this feeling though. The warm sensation that starts in the chest and slowly flows outward, reaching both the finger tips and toes. The way it makes the eyes cloudy and fills the heart till its overflowing. They don't instruct you on how to stop smiling or to cease the tears that just keep coming.

The men quite down as they see me begin to cry. I can't imagine what they're seeing, I must be an ugly crier because everyone is staring. I've never cried before, so I wouldn't know. I haven't had a reason to cry my whole life, no friends or family to think about. And know I look around and all I see is family. I have something to cry about know, I'm so happy. I've never been this happy before.

"Thank you!" I scream, trying not to choke on my own sobs. I lunge into Whitebeards neck, wrapping my tiny arms around his thick neck, "Thank you so much!"

The deepest rumble erupted from Whitebeard's chest, "There is no need to thank anyone child, we're family after all." I sobbed even harder, not being able to express my joy any other way.


	5. Chapter 5

**(A/N)** Due to a helpful review, I've decided to add an author note. I hadn't had any beforehand because who really wants to read my rambling thoughts, but I guess if you're reading this, you already are. Thanks to everyone else who reviewed, I really care about what you think because I'm the only one who reads this before posting, so no peer editing here! If I make a mistake, or misspell a word, or you just have ideas or recommendations for future chapters, tell me. I read every review, and will usually reply. And now back to your regularly schedule program!

LB

Chapter 5

POV Marco

Mila's sobbing had sent her into a deep sleep. The way she had cried into Pops for so long was heart wrenching, but I was put at ease when her breathing had turned from choppy sobs to a steady shallow beat. The tiny child had fallen asleep in one of the great Emperors lap. An unbelievable sight.

I now relaxed against the railing of the ship, watching as the crew celebrated their new crew member, or at least that was the excuse tonight. I've never been one for extensive partying, but I won't deny a drink every once and awhile. I prefer to watch everyone's drunken stupidity, it's one of my favorite pastimes in fact.

I watched as Izo hovered near Pops and Mila. He would occasionally brush a piece of stormy blue hair to the side, of gently readjust Mila's makeshift dress. He would also ward off his drunken brothers who got too close to the child. For a pistol shooting pirate, he was very motherly towards his new sister.

Thatch seemed completely unaffected by the new comer as he was still drinking just as much as ever, maybe even more.

I was about to get up and join Vista as he devoured some partially tasty looking pastries when I heard splintering wood from the dock below. I could recognize the noise instantly, the benefit of destroying of marine ships for a living. I glanced at my Captain, seeing if he had noticed the disturbance.

He had. He was calmly looking at me, and nodded. It was one of those time when I just knew what he wanted me to do, it was a bond only a first mate and a captain could achieve.

I peered over the edge of the Moby Dick, to see our new guest. It was none other than Thunder Fist Lynn, and Mila's legal guardian, Miss. Lynn. From the looks of it, she had destroyed the beginning of the dock, disconnecting the rest from the mainland. Since we docked at the edge due to our great size, there was only a sliver of solid ground to stand on. That eliminated hand to hand combat, because if I fall in I'd be completely defenseless, and dead due to my devil fruit and all. It doesn't matter if my bounty's 750,000,000 berris, I'm a dead log in the water.

I jumped from my spot on the deck, transforming half way to down. I ate a mythical zoan devil fruit, giving me the ability to transform into a phoenix.

Transforming into a phoenix was the most freeing experience, the feeling of the wind under my wings, and my tail flowing behind me is heavenly. My flaming blue body wasn't just for looks though, I'm immortal. Unless I'm killed in battle, I will live forever, never aging, impenetrable to all dieses, I can heal any wound, and with all that, I'm still not as strong as the great Whitebeard.

I take my full from, circling Lynn, sizing her up.

The Vice Admiral smirks up at me, "Hello, Marco the Phoenix, I believe you have something I want."

I summoned my human body, but kept my vibrant blue wings, hovering above Lynn. "I assume you mean Mila?"

As an answer, Lynn clenched her fists, preparing for the fight. I smirked, it didn't matter if she was a vice admiral. She wasn't going to take my new sister. I dove on to her, swinging my leg right into her face. She held up her arm, and braced the kick with her form arm. This did nothing since I stored all my power in my legs. She was shoot off the tiny piece of dock left and flung to shore. I heaved a sigh, she barley even put up a fight, was she really a Vice Admiral?

I was still airborne when the aging women started to drag herself from the crater her body had created when it had collide with the island. "Still up for more?" I mocked.

Lynn turned and spit some of her blood to the side and wiped the corner of her mouth. She then spread her feet and raised her fists, a clear invitation for me to come and beat the shit out of her, again. I was in a playfully good mood, so I decided I wanted to mess with the horrible woman before I killed her. At my full speed, it only took me a second to get in her face. She didn't miss a beat though, she swung her fist at full force towards my face. I easily evaded this by grabbing her shoulders with my feet, know talons, and dragging her into the air.

I rose into the sky, reaching incredible heights with Lynn struggling in my clutches. "I want to get one thing straight," I say over Lynn's grumbles of protest, "if you ever come after Mila again, you will get much worse than this." With the final word, a dropped her into the ocean, a good mile from shore and two miles from the water. She probably couldn't come after Mila if she tried, she'll either be dead or paralyzed. Most likely dead.

I took a brief fly around the island, stretching my wings in full form, before causally landing back onto the Moby Dock. None were startled by my appearance, it was usual for me to relax in my phoenix form aboard the ship. And since I barley ever set anything on fire anymore, it's completely safe.

Thatch drunkenly stumbled over in my direction. "Marlo!" he slurred, "I mished you!" Then proceeded to tackle me in a sloppy hug. Thatch tended to get very clingy when drunk, only last week did he tie Haruta to the mast so he wouldn't leave him again. In truth, Haruta had only left to go to the bathroom for less than a minute.

In response to Thatch's clinginess, I started to peck his forehead. In response, Thatch clung tighter, mumbling incoherent nonsense sounding like "I wuv you too birdy."

Grudgingly, I changed back to my human form. Thatch's drunken self was surprised by the change of shape and let go, thankfully. I quickly made my way to Pops before drunk Thatch noticed my disappearance. Pops was still relaxing with Mila in his lap, but now with a bottle of sake in hand too.

"You dealt with the nuisance?" he asked after taking a gulp of sake.

I nodded, "But I recommend that we set sail in the morning, we don't know if anymore marines are lurking around."

He nodded, and glanced down at Mila, her mouth had cracked open and a slight trail of droll was leaking out. I chuckled at the sight and looked up at Pops, "She's going to grow up to be quite a woman, are you sure you're going to be able to handle a teenage girl?"

Pops smirked, "If I can handle all you brats, one girl will be easy."

I grinned at my captain, his serious composure always disappears around his family. It was nice to see him with a smile once and awhile.

"Don't you boys think it's time to put little Mila to bed?" Izo was standing before Pops and I, his hands on his hips, "Only if you plan to let her sleep outside all night and allow her to catch a cold?"

I laughed, only Izo would talk like that to our captain. Pops seemed unfazed by Izo's tone and nodded. "Go ahead, as long as you don't wake her up."

Izo proceeded forward and gently swept the tiny girl into his arms. She didn't even stir as Izo walked through the crowd to get to his cabin. Before descending below, Izo looked back at everyone and said, "If this girl wakes up because of you buffoons, I will shot every single one of you in the balls." He said this at a normal volume, but everyone heard, Izo was not to be messed with.

Pops sighed, "You heard him boys, I would keep it down."

I laughed and went off in search of those yummy looking sweets from before, quietly of course.

POV Izo

Mila was safely secured in my bed as I started to go through my closest. I would not stand another day with her in that dingy sack mistaken for a dress. Of course, I didn't have any clothing for a little girl, but I did have a sewing kit. I settled down into my overstuffed armchair with my sewing kit to one side and a bundle of random clothing to the other. Under the light of my one dim lamp, I set to work.

I jerked awake to stomping of feet above my head. I leaned back again, yawning. I had stayed up most of the night, but I finally finished something suitable for Mila to wear. I peaked over towards my bed, seeing if the girl was still sleeping.

She wasn't, she was gone. There was only an empty bed, no trace she had ever been there except some ruffled covers.

I jumped to my feet, and searched my room, throwing clothes from my closet and uprooting my mattress. I doubt she would actually be in any of these place, but I was desperate. After my room was completely ransacked, I took off towards the deck.

It was early morning, the sun had barley risen, but the deck was plenty busy. Crew members lazily wandering around in a morning daze, or a hung-over. Others were preparing the Moby Dick for departure.

I frantically searched the faces of the crew, maybe Mila had just wandered up here after waking up, but there was no sign of the small blue haired girl. I noticed Thatch leaning against the railing supporting a cup of coffee off to the side. I darted over to him in a frenzy.

"Have you seen Mila?" I demanded.

Thatch grimaced at my loud voice, obviously still hung-over, "Dude, why so loud?" he whined, "No, I haven't seen the chicky since yesterday, and we didn't wake her up so my balls are safe." He examined me closer, looking me up and down. "You're a mess," he finally proclaimed, "your makeups smudged and your hairs a rat's nest. What's so wrong that you didn't do your hair?" Thatch now seemed genuinely concerned.

I glared at him, "Now is not the time for your jokes Thatch, I lost Mila."

"Whoa, you're totally screwed, Pops is gonna kill you." For the severity of the situation, Thatch didn't seem all that concerned.

I ran a hand through my loose hair, "I know," I admitted, "Where's Marco, Mila seemed to like him, she might be there."

"He's in the dining hall eating breakfast, I just saw him, no kid in tow." Thatch took a sip from his mug with the number four inscribed on it. "Maybe you should just chill and eat some breakfast too, the kid couldn't have gone far. I mean, she's like 10, what do 10 year olds even do?"

"DO YOU NOT GET IT?! I LOST MILA!" I screamed at Thatch. Why couldn't he get it, if Pops found out before I found Mila I would be meat on a stick before long?

"What about Mila?"

Oh shit, oh shit, shit, shit, fuck.

"Izo," Pops regarded me, "What did you say about Mila?"

**(A/N) **Oh look! It's another note from your author! If you want to see pictures of Mila, you can go to my deviantart page, my deviant ID is lizzbizz357, hmmmmm, I wonder where I got that from? Like my writing, my art isn't perfect, but it's how I see Mila in my head.


	6. Chapter 6

**(A/N) **I have no idea why this took me so long to update, I've had it written since I uploaded chapter 5. Maybe it was my art teachers a b with an itch and made me redo my perfectly fine whale, or maybe cause last weekend was homecoming, or cause I can't write chapter seven to save my life. Sucky excuses, I know, but that's all I got for you. On another note, I rated this T for language, if you couldn't tell form Izo's little outburst from the last chapter. Just remember that they're sailors, and guess what? They're going to swear like one, so if you're not comfortable with that kind of thing sorry for not giving you a previous warning.

LB

Chapter 6

Mila POV

Nothing left to do, I had everything I needed to be a pirate now. I was standing in front of my bed in my tiny bedroom above the herb store. My bag was packed, and I ready to head back to the ship. I hoisted an old blue and white bag of Lynn's onto my shoulder and started out of the apartment. If I hadn't had my pack, I would have blinked out of town, but due to its heavy weight, I had to walk part way. I've never had a lot of material possessions, and the few I did have were books. When I turned nine Lynn decided she would allow me a book every month, so once a month we would go to the only bookstore on the island, I would pick the fattest book in the whole store. They were mostly medical dictionaries and such, but all of them were extremely precious to me. So in my one pack held two bio-engineering manuals, four herb encyclopedias, five phycology guides, one genealogy textbook and two journals on the study of the brain. It takes a lot of energy to blink such a far distance, and doing that while carrying all my books plus the seeds Marco had been seeking, which I had stuffed into the side pocket, would be exhausting. So my plan was to walk most of the way, and then blink onto the ship, going unnoticed. I hadn't wanted to bother Onee-san while she was sleeping, so I snuck out. The thing is, now I had to sneak back in.

I hopped down the long flight of stairs that lead up to the apartment, I no longer dreaded them though. Without my necklace, I had so much energy and know I felt like running up and down them. I saw everything from a new view after my necklace was removed. The herb shop didn't look creepy to me now. The rolling hills of Salus looked greener and playful instead of an impending workout to reach the other side. This new outlook might have been due to my newfound energy, or it could be that I was getting nostalgic. I was becoming a pirate, I probably wouldn't ever come back here. With so many things to see, why come back to this puny island in the middle of nowhere.

As I walked down the uneven cobble stone street, I decided I would come back. I would come back after travelling the world with the Whitebeard pirates and experiencing all the wonders the world has to offer as one of them. I would come back just to show this pitifully small island what I had become.

I smiled at my proclamation, looking forward to seeing new places, I've always wanted to go to the east blue I thought, the south blue would be nice too. I started to fantasize about all the islands I could go to, and in no time, I had reached the docks. Somehow, the beginning of the docks were destroyed the night before, so I had to blink right onto the ship. Since I hadn't got a good feel of the boat before I left, I appeared in one of the last places I had blinked before leaving the ship.

From my spot on top of the mast, I watched as chaos unfurled below me. Everyone was frantic and running around like chickens with their heads cut off. I saw Onee-san face down on the deck, her body was heaving with sobs. What had happened?

I leaned forward, to try and get a better look, when one of my books slipped out from the top of my pack. I watched helplessly as it tumbled toward the hard wood of the deck. I whimpered as I saw my precious book land on its spine with a deafening thump.

Everyone below stared at my book, silently before breaking out in terrified shrieks resembling that of a little girl's cry. And as a little girl, I could verify this.

"It's raining books!"

"This is a sign, the world's gonna end!"

"Death by bio-engineering! Such a gruesome way to go!"

I watched horrified as one of the men poked it with a stick. So horrified that I didn't feel the presence behind me.

"You drop something?" a very pineapple-esque voice asked from next to me.

A shrieked as I saw Pineapple head with blue wings and talons. I tried to escape from the fearsome pineapple, but I had happen to forget that I was on top of the mast, and slipped off. Lucky for me, Pineapple had had fast reflexes. He grabbed me by the strap of my pack, and dangled me helplessly in midair.

"So this is where you've been all morning?" he inquired.

I blushed, embarrassed for being caught when I thought I was being so sneaky. "Good morning Marco," I lifted my hand in attempt of a wave.

He tsked my behavior and looked down at the crew gathered around my fallen book below. "Someone catch!" The men looked up at his voice.

"Hey, wait! What are you doing?!" I shrieked.

He only smirked at my reaction, then, the pineapple head had the audacity to drop me. This was a big ship, so it was only natural that the mast was just as large, my fall was going to be long one. I sailed downwards, in absolute shock. He had dropped me.

He. Had. Dropped. Me.

The stupid Pineapple head had dropped me.

And I didn't care that I was hurtling toward the unforgiving wood of the deck, I only cared that the idiot had dropped me.

The men below were scurrying in zig zags trying to determine where I was going to splatter when I made impact. I crossed my arm and puffed my cheeks, they were all stupid, especially Pineapple head.

I blinked out of my pack before I let one of those buffoons catch me. A crew member was very shocked to see that he didn't catch a small girl, but a giant pack of books. But they were missing two. One was still sprawled on the deck where it had fallen to its death, the other was in my hand.

I had appeared right above Pineapple head's head and swung my biggest herb encyclopedia at the obnoxious yellow tuff. Stupid Pineapple head felt me before I had gotten my revenge, and flew away. I smiled, two can play it that game.

He was now hovering above the deck, fiery blue wings pumping. I blinked to in front of him, to behind him, then side to side, trying to mask my location, becoming a blur in the sky. When I felt he was as confused as a pineapple could be, I swung my book again. The dumb Pineapple head was just as prepared as before, only this time he caught my hand with his talon. I struggled against hold as he dragged me to the safety of the deck.

Even before my feet touched the deck, I was tackled by Onee-san in a wet hug,

"MILA! I TOUGHT I HAD LOST YOU!" she said some more things after screaming that, but it was muffled by her sobs.

I blushed, "I'm sorry, I didn't think you would notice I was gone."

Onee-san looked up at me, eyes wide, tears had smudged her leftover eye makeup from yesterday. She looked shocked, "Of course I noticed, Mila."

I looked down at my feet, embarrassed. "Thank you," I mumbled as I returned Onee-san's hug.

Onee-san accepted the hug, "Anytime," she whispered in my ear. I grinned from ear to ear.

Just in time to ruin the heartwarming moment was Thatch. He came up from behind me and gently thumped me on the head with my fallen bio-engineering book. "You may have saved Izo's ass, but yours is far from that," he commented.

All Onee-san carried about was Thatch's use of such foul language in front of my "virgin ears", I on the other hand, was more concerned about my ass.

"Am I in trouble?" I asked. Then I used my secret technique, and I'm still not proud of this. I stuck out my bottom lip slightly and widen my already wide green eyes, then bobbed my head to the side as a finishing touch. I got the usual reaction from my audience, variations of "awwwws" and "ohhhh", with a touch of swooning thrown in there. This method had gotten me out a tight situation with a local librarian more than once.

Only one idiotic fruit was not as affected.

"Yes," Marco said, "you are. Pops was worried out of his mind."

"It took almost half the of the ship's sake supply just to get him to chill," Thatch recovered from my cute attack just in time to point this out, "and half of us to restrain him from killing Izo. It was a mess"

Marco nodded, "you need to go apologize before he goes on another rampage."

"But I didn't think I was doing anything wrong," I whined.

Marco shock his head, "Doesn't matter, you still have too. He's in his room, go now."

I pouted as I stomped my way to Whitebeard's room. I still don't see why I have to apologize, if Onee-san hadn't woken up, I could have there and back without anyone knowing. I was almost the perfect ninja.

Soon, Whitebeard's giant door loomed over me. I hesitated before knocking, I tried to knock as lightly as possible, I didn't want to wake him if he was sleeping. Well, that was a lie. I was actually hoping that he was so old that he wouldn't hear me knock so I didn't have to apologize.

Sadly, that wasn't the case. "Come in,"

I sighed, and instead of trying to open the solid wood door, I blinked into the room. Whitebeard was leaning back in his chair, a slight pink flush of pink colored his cheeks. Wow, he really must have drank a lot.

"Mila? I thought Izo had lost you?"

I blushed, "Um, not really. See, I went back onto the island to grab some of my stuff," I said, "and forgot to tell anyone I was leaving."

Whitebeard was about to say something, but I rushed to apologize, I didn't want to get in trouble with him, "And Marco said I shouldn't do stuff like that and I should I apologize, so I am. I'm really sorry for leaving the ship without asking." I blurted this out as fast as possible, and then without waiting for a reaction, I blinked out of his room.

Before I could run back to the main deck where my books waited, Whitebeard yelled for me. Now when I say yell, I mean yell. My name boomed throughout the ship, shaking the door and its hinges. I could feel the wooden boards shake beneath me.

Oh no, I instantly regretted my decision of leaving Whitebeard's room now. I slowly inched my way back to his door, this time I choose to slowly push it open, I was not ready to die.

I peeked my head in just barley, which was enough for Whitebeard though, because just as he saw a glimpse of my blue head, he started to speak.

"Mila, why do you think I was upset?" He asked. His voice didn't sound tense or angry, it was eerily calm.

I moved another inch forward, "Because I left the ship without asking?" The way he had asked me made me question what I thought was the answer.

"No, that's not the reason, care to take another guess?" he questioned again, there was now the slightest bit of humor laced in his tone now. He somehow kept the clam composure though.

This time I moved a foot forward, "You don't like kids?"

That got a tug out of the corner of his lips, "I actually love children."

I raised an eyebrow, this was surprising. I took a few step closer now, completely in the room now. "But pirates only like treasure?"

Whitebeard laughed, "In truth, I don't really care for treasure." He could tell that this statement intrigued me, and continued, "I'm going to tell you a secret Mila. I only have one desire,"

I was close to falling over because I was leaning forward so far. I had this thing with information, I had to know everything. So, knowing Whitebeard had a secret was killing me.

"to have a family," he said, smiling with his eyes closed, looking serene. "I was upset because I had thought I had lost a child, not because you left the ship. I was worried that I had lost a family member, and that's a pain I never want to feel."

I didn't know I was crying till I felt my tears rolling down my cheeks. Whitebeard had said this with so much conviction, it had moved something within me. And also helped me come to final conclusion, I knew where I belonged among the Whitebeard Pirate now.

I bowed my head in a sincere apology. "I'm very sorry for worrying you," I glanced up and wiped my tears, cracking a small smile, "Dad."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Marco POV

Mila had been on the Moby Dick for a few days by now, and seemed to be melding into the Whitebeard family nicely. She had one problem though.

"Haruta!" Mila exclaimed as she pointed to Kingdew, a large tanned man with short blonde hair, who was obviously not the tiny twelfth division commander.

Mila was sitting crossed legged on the deck in her altered overalls and yellow t-shirt, curtesy of Izo, surrounded by a few of the division commanders. Over the past few days or so, the crewmembers have discovered that Mila has a serve problem with connecting names to faces. Some of the crew brothers (mostly Thatch) saw her disability as some sort of game to pass the time when not working, or a way to get out of working all together.

Today's participates were Kingdew, Vista, Namur, Haruta, and of course, Thatch. Thatch, who was acting as a referee of sorts, held up his arms in the shape of a giant X, "Biriririri, wrong!" As Mila's face fell, Thatch grin grew. For some reason, Thatch took great pleasure in her failure. This was, of course to Izo's displeasure. They were only playing on the deck because Izo was looking for his makeup, which had conveniently went missing this morning. Izo refused to emerge from his room without being properly made up since the disappearing Mila incident and Thatch's incessant teasing.

Mila flopped backwards onto the deck, "I don't like this game!" she pronounced, her tiny features scrunched together tightly, "I always lose."

"Come on Mila~, this is practice. You need to learn everyone's name." Thatch said, smirking wickedly. I'm pretty sure he had an alternative motive.

Off to the side, Kingdew had turned to Namur, grief stricken, "Do I really look like Haruta?" he mumbled to the fishman. Namur just shook his head and patted the eleventh division commander on the back. Poor Kingdew, he had been mistaken for the tiny boy-like twelfth division commander more than once, and was starting to take it personally.

Back towards Mila and Thatch, the argument was still going on, "Noooooooooo, it's boring, and I want to read!" Mila whined.

Thatch flopped backwards next to Mila, giving in to her protests. If we had learned anything from the past few days, it's that it's near impossible to win an argument with the ten year old girl. "You're going to melt your brain with those stupid books." Thatch murmured under his breath.

Mila took this as an okay to excuse herself from the game and darted off to her stack of books on the deck. I've begun to notice that where ever Mila goes, a small stack of large books follow. I've observed stacks beginning to grow in the dining hall, the main deck and strangely enough, two staircases. They were starting to become a danger to the crew, just yesterday, Rakuyo tripped over a bio-engineering manual walking down the stairs with the ink supply for the navigation room. It ended with having to scrub him in bleach and an ink stained stairwell. Bio-engineering was out to get us.

I happened to be standing by her books, so I bet her to the punch, and grab a book from the top and hand it to her. She took the book and carefully examined the cover. After a moment of observation, placed the book back on the stack and grabbed another one. She then proceeded to a corner and curled up.

I picked up the book I had chosen for her, I swore I had saw her starting the same one this morning at breakfast.

"Oi, Mila!" I called over to her,

She reluctantly looked up from her reading material and raised an eyebrow, not gracing me with the dignity of a response.

"Didn't you start this one this morning." I questioned.

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, don't you want to finish it?" I inquired further.

She sighed, clearly annoyed at my inquisition, "I already finished it," she said, I swore I heard her mumble 'dingus pineapple' under her breath.

I glanced back down at the book in my hand, it was well over 600 pages.

"That's impossible."

By this point in the conversation, Thatch had made his way over to us, without getting off his back. He had half slide and half crab walked over, a completely unnatural and comical spectacle, which had gone on without a second glance from the crew. To us, it was just another day on living aboard the Moby Dick with Thatch.

Without glancing up from her book, or giving any notice to Thatch, Mila replied, "It's my devil fruit, it allows me to memorize anything in a single glance. Therefore, I can read faster than the average human. My average reading speed is 500 words per second, or 30,000 words per minute."

I scoffed, "You can't possibly remember what you read."

"Every word."

Thatch, who had been silently observing, which was particularly suspicious in itself, suddenly rolled over. "I have a new game!" he declared.

At the sound of a prospective new game, Haruta zoomed over form his spot still by Kingdew. Alone, the tiny man was just about as mischievous as Thatch, but with the two together it spelled impending doom for their brothers. They're historic pranks were still scarred into the minds of their victims. Curiel still wouldn't go into the kitchen alone at night. "Game? I wanna play!" Haruta bounced vigorously as he asked.

Thatch sneered as he grabbed a book from Mila's pile. He randomly opened to a page and scrunched his eyes closed and randomly jabbed a word on the page. He peeked through one eyes to see what word his finger had stabbed.

With a sly smile, his head shoot up and directed its mischievous nature toward the nerd in the corner. "Mila! Page 472, line 28, word 5!"

Mila, without looking up from her current book, said "physician's"

Haruta excitedly looked at the book in Thatch's clutches, he slowly counted out Thatch's directions, mouthing the numbers as he went. "Ohhhhhhh," Haruta looked up from the book, "She's right!" He snatched the book from Thatches hands, "My turn! Hmmmmm," Haruta searched the pages of the book, looking for just the right word, "Ah ha!" and it seemed he found one too, "page 78, line 6, word 3!"

"Lucky"

Haruta smirked at Thatch, "I think we can have some fun with this."

Thatch nodded, but then something occurred to him. I could tell he had an idea because he got this look, his eyebrows got all scrunched up, but his eyes stayed creepily wide, his mouth also did this weird thing pucker thing. That was the face of impending doom, and sadly, we all saw the hideous expression all too often.

"Mila! If you come with me, I'll give you some new books!" Thatch said, keeping his naughty idea to himself.

The only time anyone on the crew saw Mila run was when books were involved, for other daily activities she would just blink or walk normally. It seemed that Mila thought books were worth the extra effort. She zoomed towards Thatch as he walked towards his room below deck.

"Hey!" Haruta went after the duo, "Wait for me! I wanna play more!"

I sighed, the three of them were more trouble than the ship could handle.

Third POV

Later that same day, Mila and Thatch were sneaking around the Moby Dick. In hand, Thatch carried a thick pad of paper and a big black marker. At the moment, they were waiting for Haruta to come back from his recon mission.

Something was up with them, and the whole crew could feel it. Waiting for the shoe to drop, everyone was on their toes. The chefs locked the freezer, Izo hide his makeup, and Curiel refused to come out of his cabin.

Haruta slinked back to their home base, information in hand. They huddled together as they set up their game plan. Now that Haruta had pinpointed all the division commanders' exact locations, they were ready to commence operation snapshot.

At the oddest moments throughout the day, Thatch or Haruta would pop up near a commander, and hold up the thick pad of paper, which was shrinking in size by each commander who spotted them. The twosome wouldn't touch them or put jelly in their pants like other times, which was odd, but they wouldn't move from their position till the ten-year old girl gave them the okay. Which was even weirder, since according Marco, Thatch had bribed Mila to participate with books. Then they would sneak away in the shadows.

The whole thing concerened the crew. Not knowing the trio's plan was pushing everyone over the edge considering the worse. Some theories consisted of radiation from the pad of paper that shriveled their manhood, while others spoke of mind control and mental torture.

There was a gathering in the taking place in the mess hall, the few remaining commanders who hadn't been harassed by the pranksters were gathering to figure out their true agenda, and possibly thwart their plan.

Vista locked the door from the inside of the mess hall, to prevent any unwelcome intrusions, and sat next to Marco, "The coast is clear," he said.

Marco nodded, his hands folded under his chin, "Before this continues, I just want to make sure that we're clear that we will not lock Thatch or Haruta in a closet this time, right?" The few commanders gathered around the long table nodded hesitantly. "Okay, since that has been cleared up, let's get down to business." Marco looked at Speed Jiru, "You're the only one who has yet to escape from their pursuits, is that correct?"

He nodded, "I spotted Mila before Haruta could reach me, it seemed that Thatch was scouting from above and Haruta and Mila moved in on his command."

Marco nodded solemnly, their battle tactics were solid. This was a given since the twelfth division specialized in espionage, and with Haruta providing his extensive knowledge of sneaking and spying they were almost impossible to catch. And Kingdew had tried, he had launched himself at Thatch when he was cornered with the pad of paper, but he missed and hit the wall, causing a large hole to appear in the shape of his head.

"We could ambush them," Fossa suggested, "we could use someone as bait and-"they all fell silent as they heard the lock click open. But when the heads of the men shoot towards the door, they saw nothing. And since they had confiscated all the keys that could unlock the door from the outside and no one was in there except for them, they silently blamed it on nerves, and continued to plot against their common enemy.

Mid-way through plan number six, Kingdew burst though the mess hall doors. Unaware of who the intruder was, the commanders drew their weapons, preparing for battle.

"Where are they?!" Kingdew demanded, "I saw them come this way, are you hiding them?!"

"Wait," Vista said, "you're after Haruta, Thatch, and Mila, right?"

Kingdew nodded, steam about to come out his ears. "Then that means they're close," Jiru commented.

Suddenly it clicked for Marco, they had forgotten all about Mila's devil fruit, no locked door could keep her out, "Men! They're here!"

As soon as Marco said this, Haruta and Thach descended from the rafters like skilled ninjas, each with a pad of paper in hand as their weapon. Mila appeared out of nowhere, eyes flickering from Thatch and Haruta, waiting.

"AH HA!" Kingdew went after Thatch, who was heading towards Marco, "You're mine!"

Chaos soon erupted, all the commanders were going after their pad baring brothers with violent enthusiasm. Quickly, Haruta was pinned under Vista, while Kingdew and Jiru were wrestling with Thatch.

Kingdew was about to smash Thatch's precious hair back into his head when Mila yelled, "Stop, Kingdew!"

Everyone halted, especially Kingdew, "You…. You got my name right." He was in absolute disbelief, shocked that Mila hadn't mistaken him for Haruta or another commander.

Mila nodded, "That's what we've been doing," Haruta said, though it was slightly muffled because he was still under Vista, "Helping Mila learn everyone's names."

Marco examined the trio, and picked up a fallen pad of paper from the floor. He slowly flipped through it. On each sheet was a commander's name written in big letters, he also found his name, though under it was the word pineapple, written in tinier, daintier hand writing. It suddenly hit Marco what they had been doing.

He rubbed his temples, "You've been using the paper and Mila's devil fruit to memorize everyone's name and faces." The idiots nodded, Marco heaved a sigh, "Why didn't you just ask instead of sneaking around and getting everyone suspicious. We all thought you guys were planning world domination or something."

Haruta, Thatch, and Mila glanced at each other, then said "it's not as fun."

**(A/N)** So, I've been a little preoccupied lately. If you follow Percy Jackson and his adventures, you know what I'm talking about. I was reading the last book in the Heroes of Olympus series while writing the beginning of this chapter, and kind of used it as inspiration. In the part where Mila was reciting the words from her book, she was actually reciting Blood of Olympus. And I encourage you to go out and buy the series and read them and find out for yourself. Rick Riordan writes amazing books, I love his twist on Greek mythology and his humor. Oh look, you can see my inner nerd showing, okay I'm done obsessing now. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter, make sure you review, follow and favorite!

LB


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Mila POV

I now knew every inch of the Moby Dick. All of the many levels, half-decks, side-rooms and dead-end halls, plus a little more. During mission snapshot, Thatch and Haruta taught me every hiding spot they knew of on the ship, which happened to be a lot. None of the other crew members knew of them, except dad, so it was great for hide and seek.

Hide and seek was one of my new passions I discovered while onboard the ship, one of the simple joys I missed out on while stuck on Salus with Miss. Lynn. Most days, a good deal of the crew members would play with me too, sometimes whole divisions if it was a slow day. For being burly pirates, my crew brothers loved playing games. Today was different though, absolutely everyone was busy. I guess it was raiding season or something, because everyone was out on some mission. Barely any skiffs remained. And with everyone gone, there were less people to man the ship, which I had now learned takes a lot of people to keep going.

The only person I knew that never went anywhere was dad. Being the captain, I would think he would be gone all the time, doing captain stuff, but it turns out he stays on the Moby Dick most of the time.

"I'm booooooooooooooored!" I proclaimed loudly at dad's feet, where I was sprawled out in the midday sun.

"Gurararara, and how I am I supposed to fix that?" Dad laughed.

"Get a library," I mumbled under my breath. The one thing the Moby Dick didn't have was a library, which had a big effect on me since I had finished all the books the crew already had on board, and was now out of reading material. Dad chuckled quietly as I absently traced the pattern of the wooden planks of the deck. "Where is everyone, anyway?"

"Working,"

I glanced up at him through my bangs suspiciously, "What kind of work?"

"Mostly managing my territories, securing supplies, some are scouting other Emperors. I believe Haruta is currently slaking a certain Shichibukai." Dad replied nonchalantly.

I pushed my bangs out of the way to get a better view of him, "Do you think I could work too?" That would surly solve my boredom.

Dad considered this, then replied, "You couldn't go out alone, considering you've never seen the Grand Line and don't know how to fight yet." I frowned, but he continued, "You might to be able help in the navigation room. Your knowledge might come in handy when maneuvering the unpredictable seas of the Grand Line."

I raised an eyebrow, "Is the Grand Line really that dangerous?" I knew it held a various amount of risks from the information in my files, but these were the Whitebeard Pirates, one of the strongest crew in the world, I doubt that they really needed my help in navigation. It was more likely that Dad was just giving me busy work to get me out of his hair, or lack of hair.

"Gurarara, yes my dear, it's the most dangerous place in the world."

"Hmmmmm," I frowned, it sounds entertaining, that's for sure, "Is it true that there's an island under water?"

Dad smiled, "Yes, Fishman Island happens to be one of my territories."

My eyes twinkled, "Can we go there next?" I asked, completely mystified by the idea of being underwater and not drowning. I've always had a love/hate relationship with water. Being a devil fruit and all, I couldn't go swimming without drowning, but I loved the sensation of taking a bath and having the water surrounding me. If I had to pick, I would choose drowning as my way to die, it seemed eternally peaceful.

Dad made a face, a face that reminded me of Thatch's idea face, "If you learn to navigate, and guide us there by yourself, then yes."

I smiled, liking the challenge, "It's a deal." There was no way I could lose, when it comes to knowledge, there was no one above me.

Third POV

(1 week later)

Thatch had just emerged from below deck after securing his skiff. He had been gone for almost two weeks, and was seeking the company of a certain stormy haired child.

"Oi!" Thatch waved down the passing 15th division commander, Fossa, "Where's Mila, I picked her up something." He hefted his bag filled with some random books he had found while working.

Fossa sighed heavily, "Just put them with the others." He jerked his head towards a pile a growing books.

"Where's the chicky?" Something had to be physically holding the young girl back to keep her from a stack of unread books.

Fossa frowned, "She's learning how to navigate, and hasn't left the navigation room for a week. She won't leave for food or sleep. They had to put a cot in there so she didn't sleep on the floor." He shook his head, "Even when we told her about her new books, she still wouldn't come out. It's a very concerning situation."

As Fossa went back to work, Thatch scratched his goatee. Fossa was right, this was a very concerning situation. And after little thought, Thatch had now decided to make it his personal job to rectify it.

Meanwhile in the navigation room Mila was hunched over a table she had claimed for her own. It was located in the back corner, out of the way of the members of the 7th division member, who were in charge of navigating the ginormous ship. Next to her table was a small cot, perfect for a girl her size, and a cold plate of food she had ignored when it was placed in front of her an hour ago.

Sprawled across her desk were a precarious stack of books, all of which concerned any and all aspects of navigation. In front of her at that particular moment was the 163rd map she had mesmerized. She had begun in the in the east blue, then traveled to the west blue, and was now currently working on the south blue.

Most would say what she was doing was pointless. She didn't need to know the geography of the rest of the oceans just to find her way to Fishman Island. Which she had recently learned was in the first half of the grand line, because there was apparently more than one part of the grand line. But Mila believed if you were going to learn one thing, you might as well learn everything else. That belief had set her on a mad reading spree of the 7th division's collection.

According to their documents, there was more to navigation than maps, apparently you also had to take in weather and wind conditions as well. After learning that snippet of knowledge, Mila put herself on a strict regimen for her crash course in navigation. For every map she memorized, she read two books on weather.

At the rate she was going, she would reach her goal of memorizing all the world's oceans and mastering navigation in 6 more days and 20 hours and 38 minutes, not allotting any time for sleep or food. Or Thatch.

Thatch, who believed any sort of knowledge or learning, or anything that required brain activity, was evil, had somehow found his way into the navigation room. Where the most brain activity was used, or as he liked to say, "Where the nerds live". This came as a shock to everyone working that day, Thatch would only ever came this close to mock them or throw grapes at them. This time he came empty handed, thankfully, and kept his mouth shut.

He slowly made his way to the back of the room, where Mila had set up camp, a big bag in hand. "Hey Chicky, whathcha up to?" Thatch asked with innocent curiosity.

"Navigation" was her only monotone reply.

"Hmmmm," Thatch leaned back on his heels, "that sounds pretty dull to me."

"That's because you lack the attention span to learn,"

Thatch snorted, "That's ridiculous, I have a great attention span,"

"When was the last time you read a book," Thatch was about to protest that he had started a few, but Mila continued "and finished it." Which shut him up.

An idea arose in Thatch's mentally unstable, mischievous mind. He could feel his face start to morph as he embraced his brilliant revelation. "I have a deal for you,"

Mila sighed, and finally looked up from her pile of maps. "I already have a deal with dad at the moment, and right now you're putting me behind track, so if you would kindly leave me alone."

"Well," Thatch ignored Mila's request, "this deal is linked to Pops deal, so it won't interfere." She raised a curious eyebrow, saying she was listening. "If I can finish one of these books," he pulled a book from his bag, "before you can master navigating, you have to leave this goddamn nerd hole, and sleep and eat like a normal person."

Mila smirked, either Thatch underestimated her ability, or he overestimated his reading speed, but either way, he was going to lose, "On one condition, if I win you have to dye your hair pink."

Thatch nodded, smiling, he had taught her well, "Deal."

Thatch had picked one of the books the other crewmember had brought for Mila, but she had neglected. It was a thick mystery novel about a writer shadowing a homicide detective for research for a book. Thatch had actually chosen the book for the creepy cover though.

The whole ship had figured out about the bet after two days of strange behavior of both Mila and Thatch.

First of all, Thatch had a book, which was as rare as a legal pirate. What was even weirder was that he was reading it. Everywhere he went he would be stuck in the book, eating, sitting and even walking. Which was particularly dangerous since they lived on a ship in the middle of the ocean. After two days, he was almost a fourth of the way through the book, even after reading constantly.

Mila, on the other hand was going strong, well figuratively. She had been following her schedule to the tee, a little delayed since her conversation with Thatch, but still would be finished on time. She hadn't slept or eaten for 48 hours straight. She was getting increasingly tried, having trouble keeping her eyes open, her eyelids getting too heavy for her to keep open. Weakness was threatening to take over. The crew in the navigation room could hear her growling stomach every so often.

With the conditions of the two contenders taken into account, the crew had started taking bets on them. Most members were beating on Mila for the win, Marco had already bought pink hair dye for Thatch. Both were fully aware of the bets, but neither were effected, not visibly at least.

Five days after the creation of the bet, Namur found Thatch rummaging through the pile of books brought back to the ship for Mila.

"What are you doing?"

Thatch glanced up, dark bags hung underneath his bloodshot eyes, "I have to find it," he mumbled like a deranged person, "I have to know,"

"Thatch," Namur asked softly, like he was talking to a cornered animal, and didn't want to spook him, "are you okay?"

Thatch held up the book he had been reading for the past four days, the bubblegum wrapper bookmark was nowhere to be seen, "How can it be 'to be continued', I have to know,"

Namur sighed with relief, he had thought the few screws Thatch actually had, had finally come loose. He smiled, that also meant the bet was over, Thatch had finished his book, and Namur had won part of the bet.

"Someone go tell Mila she lost!" Namur yelled, "And someone find Thatch his book before he goes crazy."

**(A/N) **I totally didn't finish the last half of this chapter with a stuffed cow on my head. Nor did I forget about it till I got up because I was too lazy to take it off after my sister placed it there. Did anyone notice the Castle reference? Because I was totally not watching that with a cow on my head while writing this. If I don't get another chapter out before then, HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Go visit my DeviantArt page on Halloween to see a special Mila pic, my iD is lizzbizz357.

Follow, Favorite, and review!

LB


	9. Bonus Chapter

**(A/N) **Happy Halloween! This is a short, kind of spooky chapter about a why Curiel doesn't go into the kitchen at night anymore. This takes place before Mila joins the crew.

Bonus Chapter

Curiel POV

Food, need food. I hadn't eaten since morning, and missed both lunch and dinner due to a minor mishap.

Somehow, more than 100 bunnies had made their home on the Moby Dick, and it was Marco and I's job to catch them. Well, we did get the better end of the deal, since the rest of the commanders had to pick up the mess the bunnies had left. How we division commanders got stuck with that kind of job is beyond me.

And that's the story of how I ended up in the kitchen past midnight starving, and alone. Marco had been too exhausted after our bunny escapade to do anything other than fall into bed. I, on the other hand, needed food.

Most everyone was in bed or still cleaning up bunny shit, the grueling chase had discouraged everyone from a late night of partying.

Trying to be as considerate as possible, I carefully treaded through the dining hall to the kitchen in the back. I slowly cracked the door open, wincing as the hinges obnoxiously moaned in protest as opened the door further open. I started to blindly pat the wall beside the door, seeking out the light switch. I found the cool plastic and flipped the switch up and down, waiting for the dull light to illuminate the room. It never came. I cursed the damned bunnies, they had chewed threw most of the wiring of the ship, but I had ignorantly hoped they had missed the kitchen's circuit.

I shuffled sightlessly through the kitchen, waving my arms in front of myself. Getting stabbed in the gut with a kitchen knife was probably the only thing that could have made the day any worse, but a stubbed toe would suck too. Cautiously, I gripped the side of a counter, one that I was almost certain lead to the fridge. I used it as a guide as I walked toward the fridge. My finger brushed something that had been left on the counter. I instantly jerked back, a cool wetness soaking into my finger. I rubbed my finger together, trying to identify the bizarre substance the kitchen staff had left out. The gritty texture of the material sent goose bumps running up along my arm. I felt my arm hair push against the fabric of my shirt. Whatever the stuff was, it didn't belong in the kitchen.

I wiped my finger on my pants repeatedly, trying to remove the ick coating the tips of my fingers, and continued on. This minor setback would not prevent me from my ultimate goal, food. This time when choosing my path, I opted out of holding onto the counter.

I shuffled throughout the rest of my journey, taking it slow and steady. My painfully long excursion had ended in happiness, as my hand met the chill metal of the handle of then industrial size refrigerator. The resounding 'click!' of the handle resounded throughout the rest of the room, echoing against the hard metal walls. I pulled the heavy door towards me, the bottom of the dense metal door shrieked as it met with resistance with the tiled floor. I pushed through the god awful noise to reach my goal, the deep, back right of the walk-in fridge, where the cooks kept the good jerky.

I elected the same method I had used to reach my destination, a mixture of shuffling and hand waving to receive my jerky.

It seemed darker in the fridge, now I couldn't even see the outline of my hand. Nor could I see the metal shelf my hand had rammed into.

"Shit!" I shook my hand, as if I could shake the pain out.

Suddenly my hand stopped shaking, but not of on my own will. An emotionless, icy appendage latched itself onto my wrist. Thin fingers encircled around it, I could fell its grip over my pulse, which was quickening at an alarming pace.

My voice cracked as I tried to release the scream that was bubbling up in my chest. Fear gripped my heart like a vise, it tightened as the hand tightened around my wrist as well. I attempted to wrench myself form its grasp, but failed. I was stuck in its shrinking grasp. I lashed out towards the hand, aiming past the hand to try and attack the being holding me. My fist landed against a hard chest. The thing grunted and loosened its grip on me, and I took the opportunity and ran.

Third POV

Curiel scurried out of the kitchen, banging into tables and counters, utensils rattling.

As the dining hall door thumped closed, Thatch emerged from the fridge while Haruta reconnected the circuit for the kitchen lights. Thatch swiped a hand through his hair, leaving white streaks from the gritty paint covering his hand, "That wasn't Marco, was it?"

Haruta frowned, "No, I don't think was." He sighed, "Well shit, now we have to get more bunnies."

**(A/N) **Yeah, that was super short, but it was just a bonus chapter, so yeah. It was just a happy little Halloween thing. I don't write horror or scary things, or even remotely creepy stuff, so sorry if it didn't reach your standard of 'spooky'. I wrote this off something I had mentioned in chapter 7 I think. Curiel was still traumatized by a prank Thatch and Haruta had pulled, and now he wouldn't go into the kitchen at night. I had no idea what I was writing at the time, it was just a random blurb that sounded funny in my head, but the idea turned out to be a good bonus. I find it especially funny that Curiel wasn't their intended target. Anyways, have a fun AND safe Halloween, make sure check out my DeviantArt page, lizzbizz357, to see Mila's Halloween costume.

LB


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Mila POV

I had finally completed my studies in navigation. After being monitored by a responsible adult (aka not Thatch) and being forced to eat and sleep, I finished my studies three days after my deadline. Stupid Thatch, he had to go and actually have a brain for once, and read a book. Even though I'd never admit it, if Thatch hadn't won, I'd probably would've passed out that day.

Note to self, never go without food or sleep for more than twenty four hours.

Now I only had to steer a giant whale boat to an island underwater, simple enough. Actually, it was that simple. A few days before, I had given dad my directions to enter the fastest trail of islands that lead to Fishman Island. Now I only had to give my input at a few select islands and sit back and relax, enjoying the smooth sailing.

Well, that had been my original plan until Izo popped my bubble of happiness.

"Oh come on Mila," Izo pleaded with me, "you need something other than those dingy overalls, which you really need to wash."

I sighed, this had been a reoccurring augment between us since the ship had entered the first half of the grand line. "I like my overalls. And Thatch doesn't wash his clothes." I countered.

"Thatch is a terrible example all around." I had to agree, but I refused to take off my overalls. They were officially me new favorite piece of clothing.

"Well, I still have a ton of books left to read." I started, "Everyone went out of their way to get me the books, and it would be inconsiderate not read then right away."

Izo put her hands on her hips and frowned, "Well if you really thought that, you wouldn't have holed yourself up in the navigation room."

I refused to be beaten in this argument, "It would be such a hassle to go buy clothes on an island anyway, we should stay on course and get to Fishman Island as soon as possible. We can buy clothes there." And once we got there, I would suspiciously disappear.

Izo snorted, "Do you think I'm dense?" Kind of, "We're starting to catch onto your tricks Mila. We are stopping at the next island and getting you new clothes." I was about to rebuff my argument, but she cut me off, "I don't care if I have to cuff you and drag you off this ship. You are coming whether you like it or not." Without another word, Izo stomped off.

I smirked a planning forming, well if we never stopped at another island, there was no way we could go shopping. It was a good thing I was navigating the ship at the moment.

I blinked from my comfy spot on the deck to on top of Rakuyo's, commander of the seventh division, desk. The seventh division was in command of navigation, so I've been spending quite a lot of time with them, especially Rakuyo. He was by far my favorite. Other than being the most intelligent, he also had a flail that had eaten a devil fruit and now acts like a dog, who was very fun to play with.

He has grown used to my spontaneous appearances, like most of the crew, so he wasn't too surprised when I landed on his paper work.

"Heeeeeeey, Rakuyo," I said sweetly, leaning back on my hands and swinging my feet over the edge of his desk.

He cracked a smile, "Hello little Mila."

"So," I started, preparing my special technique, "I was wondering when we were landing at the next island?"

"Well," he started to pull a paper from under my bottom, I leaned to one side to give him more room. He pulled the paper out and smoothed it as he skimmed its content, "according to this, we will reach it within the hour."

"WHAT!?' I grabbed the paper from his hands, and sure enough, that was what the time table I had written said. "Can't we change course?"

"No, we need to refuel on supplies," he raised an eyebrow, slowly realizing I had an alternative motive for visiting him, "Why?"

I heaved a sigh, that nasty Izo had won, "No reason." I slipped off his desk, I needed to think of an escape plan for when we reached the island.

Izo POV

I hummed happily as I packed my tiny bag, stuffing it full of cash, all of which I planned to spend. Next to me, Thatch plopped ungracefully next to me on one of the dining hall benches.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" He asked as he snatched a carrot from Namur's plate, who sat across the table from us. He took a chop out of it, but was apparently expecting something else, because right after that, he spat it back out onto the floor. Both Namur and I glared at him.

"If you have to know, Mila and I are going shopping once we dock."

He snorted, "You really think chicky is going to willingly go shopping with you?"

I tilted my chin up, avoiding his gaze, "Well, no. I'm forcing her."

Thatch blurted out hysterical laughter. Namur shook his head, "You know, you could probably could get her to go another way,"

I studied Namur, the fishman had always been goof at negotiation and coming up with compromises, "How so?"

"What are the two things she always wants," he paused for effect, "books and freedom."

I nodded as I smiled, a plan springing to life in my head. I lifted myself up from the table, ready to go seek out Mila, "Thank you for the advice Namur," he nodded in acknowledgement. I swung my legs over the bench. Once I had straightened my kimono, I grabbed my bag and swung it passionately at the back of Thatch's head. His head dove straight into the wooden table, shaking Namur's plate. Namur chuckled softly as I walked away from Thatches indecent curses.

Third POV

Mila was digging under her bed, desperately searching for a book she had placed under there for safe keeping. Her room had been a previous storage room, since her arrival was a bit spontaneous. And since she was a girl, she wasn't allowed to sleep in the barracks with the division members. The only good thing about her improvised room was that the walls were lined with shelves, perfect for her growing collection of books.

She heard her door creak open, but was too far underneath her bed to see their face, but she did she the sandal clad feet. She sighed, had Izo come to drag her into hell already.

"Mila?"

Mila flopped onto her stomach, giving up on the book, and life. "Whaaaaaaaat?" she whined.

"After clothes shopping, would you want to go out alone and look for some new books?" Izo proposed.

Mila banged her head as she tried to sit up, excited at the new opportunity. Hurriedly, she shimmied backwards from out of under the bed. As soon as she was free, she sat up to face Izo. "Really? I can go alone and everything?" she asked.

Izo smiled, "Yes, I'll even give you money."

Mila shot up, "Then what are we doing here? Let's get going!"

Mila skipped happily down the city street as Izo followed a ways back, keeping a close eye on the tiny girl. His plan had worked, Mila had been more than happy to go shopping after being offered books.

Izo stopped in front of a colorfully decorated boutique, deciding this was going to be their first stop. "Mila!" he called over to the girl. She looked back at Izo, smiling. She soon noticed the store he stood in front of though. She slowly walked back to where Izo stood, shaking her head.

"Does it have to be this one?" She asked once she reached him. "It looks so girly." Mila cringed.

Izo nodded, "Yes, this looks like it has the best quality of clothing." When he still saw her hesitation, he pressed, "Come on,"

Mila grudgingly followed him into the well-lit, obnoxious clothing store. A tiny bell cheerfully rang as they entered, almost mocking Mila's suddenly gloomy disposition. A young, overly made-up attendant greeted the duo. "How may I help you two?" she said sweetly. It made Mila want to gag.

Izo returned an equally sweet smile, "Well, we're looking for clothes for this lovely girl today," Izo put a hand on Mila's shoulder.

The attendant squatted down to get eye level with Mila, "Oh, lovey." She cooed, "You're very pretty little girl."

In response to this, Mila screwed her face into an ugly scowl. The attendant jerked back and grimaced. Izo scowled at her behavior and not so lightly thumped the back of Mila's head, "Mila," he hissed, "that's not very nice."

She puffed out my checks in agitation, "I'm sorry." She grumbled reluctantly.

The woman straightened herself and her skirt, "it's okay," she gave a stiff, clearly fake smile. It was so not okay. "Would you mind it if I took you're measurements?" Mila was about to snap at the attendant, when she caught a shriveling look from Izo.

"No," she mumbled.

The attendant nodded, clearly as thrilled as Mila was at the situation. "If you'll come with me to the dressing room," the lady lead Mila to the dressing room in the back of the store as Izo milled around a very pink, ruffle-esque section of the store.

By the time Mila emerged with the attendant in toe, Izo had an armful of various clothing items already picked out. He shoved the pile into Mila's tiny arms, "Go try these on, I'll hand you more in a bit."

Mila tried to peek over the pile to steer herself to back to the dressing room, but her efforts ended in vain when she face planted into a rack of dresses. The whole thing toppled over, spilling everything onto the floor. The attendant gasped as she watched the whole scene unfold, unable to do a thing as her merchandise was scattered on the floor.

Izo quickly placed his hands on Mila's back and steered her back toward the dressing room. "We're very sorry," Izo apologized as she hurried Mila away. The attendant just squeaked, not able to vocalize her feelings.

As soon as they were in the safety of the rear of the store, Izo let out her breathe, which she had been apparently holding in.

Before he could yell at her, Mila started to defend her own case, "It's not my fault, I couldn't see anything!" she said, "it's her fault for having such a bad floor plan."

Izo shook her head, "Try these on,"

He pushed her into a single dressing room and closed the door. Mila heard his retreating steps as he went to help the flustered attendant. Mila glared at the pile of clothing Izo had picked out for her. Nothing looked like something Mila would pick out for herself. So nothing was a pair of overalls. To start with, Mila picked the only none pink thing. A simple yell dress with white polka dots, all secured with a zipper on the back. She sadly shed her overalls and yellow t-shirt and carefully folded them and placed them on a chair in the corner. She slipped the dress over on, but struggled with zipping up her back.

"Onee-san!" Mila yelled, but when there was no reply, she tried again, "Izo?"

Soon after there was a reply, "What is it Mila?"

"I can't zip myself up." She admitted, a little ashamed of herself.

"I'm coming," he said, but was stopped.

The attendant had stopped Izo half way to the dressing room where Mila was struggling. "I'm sorry, you can't go in there." She said.

"Excuse me?" Mila could hear Izo's taken aback voice.

"Men are not allowed in the women's dressing room." Mila heard the attendant reply.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize." Izo didn't sound offended to Mila. Why wouldn't she be offended, Mila thought, I would be extremely offended if someone mistaken me for a man. Something then hit Mila, what if it wasn't a mistake.

Mila burst from her dressing room, the yellow dress only half on. "Izo! Are you a man?"

Izo looked extremely taken back by the question and her current attire, but nodded, "Yes, I am."

Mila stood there stunned, jaw unhinged and hanging open. She never actually expected him to agree with her. Now Mila saw him in a whole new light. He was longer an old-fashioned dressed women, but an old-fashioned cross dresser. He was no longer Onee-san, but now an Onii-san. She suddenly felt incredibly stupid, a feeling she had ever rarely felt.

"Why did you never tell me!?" she yelled, to cover up her embarrassment from mistaking him for a women, she pretended to be angry at him when she was more angry at herself.

Izo shrugged his now very manly looking shoulders, "I never thought of it as an important difference. Does it matter if I am a woman or man?"

He had a good point. Izo being a man wouldn't change the fact that he would always have a mother hen personality, or that he was one of the first people on the Moby Dick to become her friend. So what if her sister became a brother, she already had plenty of them, why not add another.

I shook my head, "No, it doesn't matter, sorry if I made too big of a deal of it."

Izo tittered at her behavior, "Its fine dear, now turn around so I can zip that dress. It's basically falling off."

Mila obeyed Izo, and turned around to let him zip her up. When turned around, Mila spotted the attendant, who was standing in a state of complete exhaustion. Apparently their shopping experience was a little too much for this ordinary civilian.

Only after Izo had bought a great deal of clothes from the shopping clerk they had traumatized, did he give Mila the okay to go off alone, but not without some rules.

"First of all" started Izo, "you have to be back at the ship by four, if you're not, Pops will be mad, and we don't want a repeat of what happened before." No they did not. If Whitebeard was angry, the whole ship would suffer, maybe even the island too. Mila nodded in agreement, and Izo continued, "Next, no talking to strangers. Never follow a man with candy. Don't help people look for a lost puppy either. And finally, if anyone gives you trouble," the second part pained Izo to say, but he continued, "beat the living shit out of them." Mila giggled, hearing Izo swear was a rare occurrence. He glared at the giggling girl, who was all too happy to be going out alone. "Do you understand?"

Mila suppressed her giggles and nodded, "Yeah, yeah, I got it Onii-san." She said.

Izo nodded, straightening Mila's new yellow and polka dot dress, which he had insisted on her wearing. "Don't spend your all money in one place too. Don't get so many books you can't carry them back to the ship either oaky?"

Mila offered a reassuring smile, "I'll be fine, I won't do anything stupid, I promise."

He heaved a heavy sigh, "Okay, as long as you promise,"

"And I do," I assured him.

"Then you better get going," Mila smiled and started to dart away, but stopped to turn back and give Izo a hug.

"Thank you for taking me shopping today," she said, and gave him a tight squeeze, which Izo returned.

"You're welcome sweetie, now go and have fun." He gave her a tiny push forward, encouraging her to go on ahead. Mila nodded, and set off while waving back at Izo as she went. Izo shook his head, "My baby's growing up."

It was time for Mila to set off on her first adventure alone. What did this strange city have in store for her?

**(A/N)** YEA, IZO! I've felt like I've neglected him for the last few chapters, and decided to spread some Izo love. Mila also figured out Izo was actually a he instead of she, FINALLY. It's such a pain to write about Izo in third person because when I first saw him in the anime, I thought he was a girl too. So I always type 'she' instead of 'he'. I was embarrassed when a friend corrected me on his gender though. I mean really, he's a cross dresser, there are bound to be some mistakes. The Moby Dick is finally on its way to Fishman Island! I have a lot planned for them there, because Fishman Island is going to turn out to be an important part of Mila's life. That's all I'm going to say on the subject, you'll just have to keep reading to find out what happens. Hope you all had a great Halloween!

LB


	11. Chapter 10

**(A/N)** So my last few chapters have been kinda of filler-esque, so I was thinking maybe I should add a conflict or something. I was already half-way through with writing this chapter when I realized this, so I twisted this into a bigger deal then it actually was going to be. This chapter was originally going to be about Mila and her lack of a biological family and such, but that quickly changed. Then the whole thing started to unfold within my head and BOOM I have like four chapters planned out! So enjoy Mila and her new life altering experience!

LB

Chapter 10

Mila POV

I had never been in such a big city before, and I had to admit, without Izo by my side, it was a little overwhelming. All the stores were screaming for me to go and inside. Some people were actually screaming for me to come inside their shop. I had to restrain myself though. Like Onii-san said, I couldn't spend all my money in one place. It was sensible advice till I stumbled upon Sweet Tooth Candy Store. While on Salus, I had never been allowed any sweets, so when I had the opportunity to enter a real candy store, how could I resist.

Sweet Tooth Candy Store was a warm welcoming place, the walls painted a bubblegum pink, random colors splattered all over the place. It was a good kind of colorful though, not a gaudy kind like the boutique I had just visited with Onii-san. In the back of the store, an employee was rolling out toffee, an extremely interesting process which I observed for almost a half an hour. Up the side of both walls were buckets and buckets of different kinds of candy. A completely overwhelming sight. Kids around my own age were shoving random kinds of candy in a plastic bag, not looking at the kind or flavor, and then zipping over to a scale to weigh their individual bag. I soon learned from a helpful clerk that I could fill a bag full of a pound of any candy and only pay 50 berris for it. I decided to try it, and took a tiny bag from the nice lady, and began to fill it.

I didn't use the same approach as the other kids though, I was much too educated to use their willy nilly method of picking my precious candy, so I decided to go to every bucket and read each description carefully before deciding what I wanted. It turned out that I was extremely picky when it came to candy. I had no previous experience with it, so I hadn't known I wouldn't like so much of it. But I did figure out that I absolutely adored lollipops. They were a gift given from god. After this revelation, I filled my bag up with a pound of different kinds of lollipops. Of course they were of different brands and flavors. I would perform an evaluation on both brand and flavor once I returned to the ship.

I anxiously waited in the line for the checkout, practically buzzing with excitement. I could almost taste the lollipops through the bags my mouth was watering so much.

Apparently I wasn't the only one who was who anxious to receive their candy. Parents and children zoomed through the line, limiting small talk to allow their children to collect their goodies, and to get them to shut up.

"Hello, how are you today sweetie?" the shop clerk asked me once I reached the front of the line. She was around the ages of 16 or 17, probably working here as a part-time job. She seemed to be enjoying herself though, because I had surveyed her talking animatedly with each costumer. She was extremely pretty too, golden blonde hair shaped into a friendly bob, big smiling brown eyes that complemented her pink pin striped uniform well.

"I'm doing well, and how are you?" I asked, remembering my manners.

She giggled, "I'm good, you're a very polite little girl" she took my bag of lollipops and started weigh it.

"Thank you, I was told to always be polite." It was that or I would get a whack on the head from Onii-san.

The clerk started to tap numbers into the cash register as she asked, "That's good, and did you parents teach you that? That would be 50 berris."

I shook my head as reached for my money. "No, my Onii-san taught me."

She gave another twinkling laugh, "That's better than my Onii-san, he used to pull my hair when I was little," she puffed her bob haircut, "so now I always cut my hair out of habit."

I laughed along with her as she took my money and handed me my bag in return. "Thank you very much" I said.

She leaned over the counter to get closer to me, her golden yellow bob jiggled up and down as she moved forward, "Do me a favor and thank your Onii-san for being such a good older brother for me, will ya?" she bobbed her head to the side with the last word.

I nodded, grinning I said, "I will"

She winked at me and continued onto the next costumer. I excited the store, smiling. Such a charismatic and sweet women like her belonged in a candy store.

Back on the street, bag in hand and lollipop under my tongue, I was determined to find a book store. The task proved more difficult than expected since Onii-san said no talking to strangers. So directionless and alone, I wandered the streets.

I had stopped in front of a pet store to coo over some adorable puppies when I heard, grunts and shouts from the alley next door. I looked around at the crowd to see if anyone else had noticed or if I was just going crazy. I could tell they heard it since they're faces were twisted in disgust and fear. No one made a move to go and investigate the sounds though. I peeked around the corner, my curiosity growing. What had the city goers so scared? The alley was dark and reminded me on the one Lynn's shop had once been in. I could barely make out five figures, one of which was on the ground. I looked around again. People would gaze into the alley then quickly jerk their head to the other side, pretending not to notice the abuse going on.

I popped the lollipop from my mouth and twirled it in between my lips, thinking. When I looked at the situation from a logical point of view, I see that it's completely unthinkable for a ten year old girl to go up against four men in their early twenties, at least according to their body shapes and vocal patterns. But then I stopped listening to reason, something Thatch always recommended. I was a pirate who belonged to one of the four emperor's crew, I shouldn't have to look away when I don't like something. I now had the power to stand up for myself, and for others who couldn't.

I repositioned my lollipop firmly against the inside of my check and my teeth and departed down the alley. As I approached the men, I could see my assumption was right, they were all in their early twenties, including the man curled up in a ball on the ground. They all wore the same signature dark. Blood flowed from a cut in his forehead and a broken nose. The four men were taking turns kicking the man, laughing as they did so.

I could smell the metallic stench of blood from where I stood a few feet away. They didn't take any notice to me till I made a loud 'pop' with my lollipop.

"Oh look what wandered down here boys" one said. The man on the ground winced as he looked up at me, curious on what had interrupted his beating. Golden blonde hair matted with blood. "a little mouse."

One cocked his head to the side, studying me, "She's a cute little mouse, that's for sure." I cringed as he gave me a toothy grin, one that resembled that of a hyena.

"I'm not a mouse." I proclaimed.

"Really?" hyena face said, "Then what are you?" his cronies chortled along with him.

I raised my chin proudly, "A pirate." I proclaimed.

One of them snorted, "And I'm a unicorn." He mocked, laughing.

Hyena face shushed him, "Kid, this isn't some place to be joking around at, I'll give you one chance to leave, and we'll pretend nothing ever happened."

I looked at the blonde man on the ground again, his eyes wide and pleading. If they were pleading for me to leave or for me to help, I couldn't tell. But the familiar golden hair told me to stay. "I'm not planning on leaving till you let him go." I declared.

"Do you know who you're messing with kid?" the unicorn said, I returned his question with a blank stare. I honestly didn't give two shits about that who they were, but he told me anyways. "We're the Two Stars, the most biggest and baddest gang in the whole fucking city."

I inwardly winced at his atrocious grammar, and countered his pathetic statement with one on my own, "I'm a part of the Whitebeard Pirates."

The all cackled at my unbelievable statement, "Really?" the first one said, "Then where's your mark?" I didn't reply. I had no tattoo like the other crew members, no way to show them I wasn't lying. "Everyone knows all the Whitebeards have some ink," he continued, "so where's your's little pirate."

"I don't have any" I mumbled. I had noticed the dad's mark on every member of the crew, but I had never thought it was a requirement, I assumed it was more of a loyalty pledge. Showing that they would always follow their father.

"No, I think you do," unicorn said, "But you're just hiding it from us. I think we need to search her."

They started approach me, inching away from their victim on the ground. As soon as they were so far in front of him they couldn't see him behind them, I quickly blinked to him and whispered in his ear, "run". I would save him and show these men what a pirate really was.

He looked up at me shocked. Before he had a chance to question me or protest, I blinked. I blinked above unicorns head, letting gravity take its toll on him as my weight crashed into him. He crumpled like a rag doll.

"Oi, watch it! She's a devil fruit user." One warned the others.

Not that it would save them though.

Quickly appearing to the side, I let one charge me, not moving till the last second, then blinking out of the way just in time. He rammed face first into the unforgiving brick wall.

I ran to the other side of the alley and garbed one of the many discarded trash cans and jammed it into the hyena face's crotch as he charged me. He didn't fall as easily as the last one did though, he only faltered a little as he dove towards me. I swiftly dodged him by stepping to the side. By stepping to the side, I stepped into the reach of the first one's grasp. His thick hands encircled my thin arms, locking me in his grasp. I tried to blink out of his grasp out of pure fear, but failed. I had never been able to blink while being held by another person. It was a crippling effect to my power.

Hyena face approached me as I struggled against the man's grasp. He held his crothch in pain, which brought me more than a little satisfaction. "Look what you've gone and done," he shook his head, "now what are we going to do with you."

I frantically looked over to where the blonde had been, now there was only a pool of blood. I sighed, he had gotten away. My moment of relief was ended by a fist colliding with my face. I've never experienced that much pain before, and it was excoriating. Hyena face pulled his fist back again readying for another punch. "This is what you get for messing with the Two Stars." Suddenly fear gripped my chest and I lashed out with my legs, out all the power I had into trying to stop him. I didn't think I could stand another punch. His arm was let loose and rammed into my gut. I chocked on my own breathe as I tried to stay conscious. Dots filled my vision as I gasped for air.

They chuckled at my lack of pain tolerance, "That's not even the worse you'll get." I heard someone say. "Hey, Nic, you got a lighter?" My vision had finally cleared enough for me to watch as Hyena face heated up a ring with a raised imprint of a star on it. I struggled with the little strength I had left, I could tell where this was going. "Hold her still" he hissed. He jerked my right arm away from my capture and turned it so he had access to the sensitive inside of my elbow. "Here little pirate, I'll give you a mark,"

The last thing I remember was the feeling of the ring burning its way through my flesh, the pain pushing me over the edge and into blackness.

I woke up alone, broken and bruised. I was still in the same alley, slumped against the wall in my own pool of blood flowing from my arm. I tried to push myself up, but cried out in pain as my right arm crumpled under me. Trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill, I pulled my right arm into my lap, cradling it against my chest. I couldn't breathe. My arm had been marked, that's for sure. Burned horizontally on the inside of my right arm were two stars. The burn was so deep I could have stuck my finger in it. I tried not to cry, pirates didn't cry. I realized then though, I was no pirate. I was a failure and a child. I gave into the retching feeling in my throat and let loose the wave of tears I was holding back.

I sat there crying for a long while.

**(A/N)** So, like wow. That was intense right? Well hopefully it was. HOLY CRAP, did anyone else realize this is chapter ten? Well, that's not including the bonus chapter. YEA! I would love some feedback from you helpful, beautiful people about how I'm doing so far. Not that I plan on stopping anytime soon, but your opinions really matter to me. Favorite, follow and review please!

LB


	12. Chapter 11

**(A/N) **Hello to the few faithful followers of Mila and her adventures, and you random ass people who saw this and were like, hey this doesn't sound like complete crap! I would like to take a moment of your precious time and give a shout out to MysticWaterWolf, a great person, or alien, vampire, zombie creature, I'm not entirely sure, who also happens to be a great writer! Go check them out, it will defiantly be worth your time, after you read this off course though. And now back to your regular-ish scheduled chapter.

LB

Chapter 11

Third POV

(On board the Moby Dick)

Izo nervously thumped his fingers against the table set out on the deck. The crew decided to take advantage of the good weather of the summer island and bask in the sun while playing card. Izo though, who was never one for gambling, was an observer, a demanding, whiny one at that too.

"Marco, what time is it?" he asked, keeping a steady beat with his finger.

Marco sighed and laid his cards face down on the table and looked at his watch, "It is 3:37, three minutes since you last asked in case you were wondering."

Izo choose to ignore his last bit of sarcasm, just like he had since joining the crew, and continued to fret, "It been over three hours, what could she be doing?"

"Probably what you told her to do," Thatch commented, staring intently at his cards, determined not to lose like the hand before, and the hand before that one, "shopping for books, and knowing the chicky, instead of buying them, she'll try to read the whole store."

"She could already be back" commented Namur as he pushed a pile of chips into the middle, "I raise,"

"Fuck," Thatch muttered, "fold" he slammed his card back onto the table and turned to Izo. "She does just pop straight into her room sometimes, goes straight to reading and shit."

Marco nodded, "just go check and leave our card game in peace. I fold" Namur chuckled as they started to pull the chips towards him with his webbed hands.

Izo stood up, "I'm going to check, but not because you told me too, but because I'm curious." He heard Thatch say something along the lines of 'halleluiah' as he walked towards Mila's room.

Once at her door, Izo twisted the doorknob, just expecting to peek in and check, however it was locked. He tried again, to make sure it wasn't just sticky or something, but failed. Mila had never locked her door before.

Izo knocked on the door, starting to worry. "Mila?"

"Yeah?" sounded the tiny girl through the door.

Relief flooded over himself, he thought something had happened. "Why is your door locked?"

"I got a really good book and I don't want to be disturbed" her voice sounded strange to Izo, but he couldn't put his finger on what was different.

"Oh, okay. Will you be finished by dinner, or should I bring you something?"

"Bring my some please."

He nodded, even though he knew she couldn't see him, "Okay, I'm glad you had fun today."

The only reply was a muffled "Uh huh,"

Izo walked away, even more edgy than before for some reason.

Later that night Izo was walking up from the kitchen, plate in hand and a Thatch in tow.

"Why do I have to come," whined Thatch, who was being forced to play delivery man with Izo.

"Because," Izo began to explain, "You need to stop gambling away everything you own."

His cheeks puffed out like a child's, "I planned on winning it all back,"

Izo was about to go off on his signature 'gambling is bad' speech, but halted at the sight of a foreign girl on the main deck. She wore a pink-pinstriped uniform and had the prettiest golden yellow hair shaped into a bob. "Excuse me," the girl said timidly, clutching a bag to her chest, clearly frightened, "I'm looking for a little girl." She glanced around nervously, "I think she said she lived here?"

There was a slight moment of shocked silence until Thatch said "Everyone must be drunk off their ass if they let her get on the ship."

Izo waved him off, not wanting to admit he thought the same thing, "Are you looking for Mila?" he asked.

"Um, she has blue hair, kinda stormy looking, mossy green eyes, cute as a button." She said, a little uncertain. "She ate a devil fruit?"

Thatch nodded, "Yep, that's Mila." He shot a protective, brotherly glare her way, "But what does that have to do with you?"

She was crippled under his glare, "I just wanted to thank her," she stuttered, clutching the bag harder.

"What's that?" Thatch jerked his head like a wanna-be gangster towards the bag.

The girl pulled it opened and showed them the contents, "Their lollipops. I work at a candy store, and Mila was shopping there, but she only got lollipops, so I assumed they were her favorite. I wanted to give these to her." She explained.

"So," Izo said, a critical eyebrow raised, "you want to thank her for buying candy at your store by giving her more candy?"

She shook her head, her golden hair swishing side to side, "No, she saved my brother from the Two Stars today." She said passionately, clutching the bag tighter to her chest, "If she hadn't shown up, he would have died!"

"Wait, calm down," Thatch waved his hands, "who are these 'Two Stars' guys?"

"An incredibly violent gang prominent in the city," explained Marco as he approached the scene unfolding on the deck, "What is going on that has to do with the Two Stars?"

Thatch shrugged, "I'm not exactly sure myself."

Izo rolled his eyes at Thatch, "This girl," he said, gesturing towards the blonde, "wants to thank Mila for saving her brother form the Two Stars, but we've heard nothing about this."

"Wait," the girl spoke up, confused, "did she not tell you? I assumed she made it back since she wasn't in the alley when I went to check. There was only blood left by the time I got there."

"Blood?" the color drained from Izo's face, the girl nodded. Izo dropped the dinner plate and rushed down towards Mila's room.

The girl looked panicked at Izo's reaction to her news, "Is something wrong?" she asked, voice shaking.

"Mila locked herself in her room since she got back. She hasn't told us anything," Marco placed his hands on her shoulders to cease her shaking, "you need to tell us everything you know." Her eyes were wide with fear, but she nodded. Marco's head whipped toward Thatch, who was frozen in place. The shock of hearing Mila was hard for him to comprehend. He had never known how to deal with the pain of others, especially the people closest to him. "Thatch," Thatch continued to stare off into space, in a daze of shock, "Thatch!" Marco put more force into his voice. He had dealt with Thatch when he got this way before, and the best approach was to be gentle, but they had no time for gentle.

Thatch snapped back to reality, "What?"

"Go get Jim and the medical team and follow Izo to Mila's room," there was the slightest pause before Thatch nodded and darted off towards medical wing.

Marco turned back to the frightened girl, "Now, tell me everything from the beginning." Once she nodded, Marco released her shoulders from his hold.

She took in a shaky breathe, trying to sort her thoughts. After a moment, her shaking ceased and she began her story. "When my brother, Jacob, was 17 he started to fall into the wrong crowd. We grew up in the city, so we knew all about the Two Stars and other gangs. But when our father died, he kinda fell apart. He started to get into drugs and the drugs led to the Two Stars, my mom and I didn't know what to do anymore. I was only 15 at the time. He has risen in the ranks since then, and recently he was told to 'dispose' of a rival gang's leader, and couldn't. He came to me the other day, and told me everything, saying he had changed, and that he was sorry and that he was going to leave them. That what he was doing today, telling them he was done. He found me as I was getting off work today, half-dead and rambling on about a little girl. That she was a savior in the form of a child. That she was an angel with mythical powers and a golden heart. I thought he was completely insane till he said she had stormy blue hair, moss green eyes and a lollipop. I knew then I had met her earlier. I pressed him for more information, he finally said that she claimed to be a Whitebeard Pirate. I left him in our mother's care to come and thank her. She sacrificed herself to save my brother. She told him to run and she took on four men." Tears started to fall from her brown eyes, "I have always loved my brother despite what he had done in the past, and I can't thank her enough for what she has done." Her breathing had become rapid and desperate, almost like the story pained her to tell it.

Marco tried to keep his composure for the girl, but his thoughts were all on Mila. The girl had left an impression on everyone on the ship on the short amount of time she had been with them. There would be chaos if she was hurt, pops would not stand it. "Okay, stay calm, what's your name?"

She wiped a tear away from her check, "Jamie."

"Good, I'm Marco nice to meet you." she attempted a smile for Marco and his attempt at normalcy, "Now Jamie, you're going to have to tell this again, our captain will want to hear it."

(**A/N** slight flashback to when Izo went off to go to Mila….. and go!)

Izo had abandoned his sandals half way to Mila's room in his mad dash to reach her. If I had only realized what was wrong hours ago, Izo cursed himself, this wouldn't have happened. His guilt only fueled his legs to go faster to reach the girl.

He flung himself at the door as he repeatable twisted the door knob futilely, "Mila! Open the door!" he yelled, still trying to use the door knob in desperation.

Izo almost missed her hushed "no" with all his persistent door knob twisting.

"Shit," he cursed to himself and the door. He gave up on the door knob and whipped out his twin pistols from his kimono. In an instant the hinges of the door were blown off by his pistols. The door toppled over as soon as Izo pushed through it and into the room.

Inside, Mila was laying lip in her bed, covers coated in blood were wrapped tightly around her as drops of sweat fell from her forehead. Her face was bruised and caked in dried blood from her split lip. Streak of blood had been cleared away by her tears. Her lovely eyes were clamped shut as if trying to keep her thoughts.

Izo fell to his knees next to Mila's bed. He gently pushed back her slick bangs, her forehead was burning up and her were checks feverish. "Darling, what happened?" he said quietly, softly caressing her hair.

She flinched away from his touch, "Go away," her voice was weak and sickly, "I don't want you here."

"Shhhh, you don't know what you're saying," Izo could only hope that was the case. He couldn't live in a world where she hated him.

"No!" Mila started to writhe under the covers, "I failed everyone. I don't belong here!" Her voice was laced with panic, her moves getting more jerky and frantic. "I don't deserve it, I don't want it, get it off!" she was on the verge of screaming now. Izo didn't know what to do, she was clearly hallucinating about something or the fever was making her crazy. The sight of her writhing and rambling nonsense was almost too much for him to bear. "Get it off!" she screamed again. She flung her right arm out from under the covers, elbow facing out.

Izo jerked back away from her arm. The inside of her elbow had two stars deeply burned into the sensitive skin. The burns were red and swollen, a red ring had formed around them, and was slowly expanding. The stench of the burnt flesh had been quenched by the blanket, but know it hit Izo hard. The nauseating smell could turn any man off meat for weeks.

"Get it off!" Mila screeched hopelessly.

The sound of running feet loudened as they approached Mila's room, Thatch in the lead. As soon as they reached her room though, Thatch froze in the door way. Taken aback by the sight of the sight of his longtime friend on his knees next to Mila, a sweet, innocent, brilliant little girl, twisting in pain. The head doctor, Jim, pushed past Thatch's frozen figure and straight to Mila. Soon, followed his staffers and a stretcher. He immediately started to examine her injuries, starting from her head and going down.

"We need to take her to med wing, she might have broken a rib." Jim instructed to two of his staffers, "We have to lift her gently so not to disturb her ribs or arm. Each take a side a lower her onto the stretcher." They nodded, and began to lift Mila off her bed as Izo scooted against the wall, head in his hands.

As the staffers started to lift her, Mila started trashing violently as her face scrunched in pain, and started to chant 'off' in a raspy whisper.

"Move back," Jim pushed his way through the men, pulling a syringe out form his lab coat.

"What are you doing?!" Thatch asked horrified. Shaken form his daze by the needle.

"The infection from the burn is causing hallucinations," he said, uncapping the syringe and posing it over a vein in her left arm, "she needs to be sedated before she hurts herself even more." He slowly injected the sedative into her system, almost instantaneously Mila's muscles relaxed and she descended into a clam state.

"Get her to the med wing, I need to do a full exanimation there," he said and tucked the now empty syringe back into his coat. As he followed his staffers out of Mila's room, he placed a firm hand on Thatch's shoulder, "She should be fine." Thatch nodded, not really hearing anything but the roaring of his blood in his ears.

Izo and Thatch were left alone in the empty bed room with bloody sheets. Izo slowly lifted his horrified gaze from his hands to look at Thatch, "They're not going to get away with this." He proclaimed. Thatch nodded, Mila may be fine, but the bastards who did that to her were sure as hell not.

**(A/N) **Awwwwww shit! Stuffs going down! Stay tuned for the ass kicking yet to come!

LB


	13. Chapter 12

**(A/N) **So a few things that you should know before getting into this chapter. First of all, it's kinda of intense, there's pretty gruesome fight and such, blood and gore, the whole ten yards. This is rated T for a reason, so it's not anything you shouldn't be prepared for. Secondly, I mention a weapon that I think most aren't particularly familiar with, the tonfa. It consists of a stick with a perpendicular handle attached a third of the way down the length of the stick, and is about 15-20 inches long. It was traditionally made from red or white oak and wielded in pairs for those who didn't know. Now you may proceed.

LB

Chapter 12

Mila POV

I felt them, though I couldn't see them or hear them, I knew they were there. I could feel them crawling up my right arm, slithering and snaking around it, squeezing it tighter. They left trails of guilt and sadness where ever they crawled. No matter what I did or said, they wouldn't leave me alone. They would snake their self in through the stars burned permanently into my flesh and writhed around my insides, squeezing my heart the hardest. I felt them creeping up my throat, taking my voice and leaving screams. I could feel them invading my mind. Rampaging through my precious thoughts, corrupting everything. My fondest memories were warped into unimaginable sadness. I was forced to relive that moment over and over and over and over. I wanted them out, I wanted them off.

Third POV

The medical wing was packed to the brim with crew brothers. All were waiting anxiously for news on Mila, who had yet to wake up. News of her attack had spread across the ship by the time she had arrived in the medical wing on the stretcher, and even after Jim commanded them all to leave, they refused to leave the girl's side.

After entrusting his staffers to monitor Mila, Jim, Marco, Thatch, and Izo gathered in Whitebeards room to discuss Mila's condition.

Nervous rustling came from Jim, who was shuffling his medical papers in front of Whitebeard nervously. "Mila will recover, do you really need to know anymore?" Jim asked Whitebeard, who had demanded a report on Mila's health. He knew once Whitebeard heard of her condition, that he would go on a rampage, and Jim wanted to avoid this at all costs.

"Yes," he firmly said, "I need to know everything."

Jim swallowed nervously, but nodded he would always obey his captain, even if it meant dooming a city to destruction, "Mila had taken several blows to the face, causing a minor concussion. She also received either several punches or kicks, maybe both, to the ribs. She didn't end up breaking anything, but are were bruised. The worst injury is the burn on the inside of her arm." He cleared his throat, "Um, it seemed that the burn was caused by heating a metal object up and repeatable applying it to the same place. The perpetrator did this repeatedly until they burned through a tendon. That will that will take the longest to heal, if it ever heals completely."

"What do you mean by that?" Marco asked nervously, fearing the worst.

"Well, a burn this deep will defiantly leave scarring, but I'm more considered about the tendon, it was almost burned through entirely. It may never heal completely and leave her right arm significantly weaker than her left. The position of the burn may also limit movement." Jim shook his head, "It may leave her slightly handicapped for life."

"But it was so small!" Izo protested, "I saw it myself! It couldn't leave that much damage?"

"I won't know the severity of it till I can monitor it. I could also research a physical therapy method to improve muscle movement, but we have to wait."

"And her fever?" Thatch whispered.

"Ah, yes, that was caused by an infection from the burns. It wasn't high enough for brain damage though, so it won't have any lasting effect. It had been brought down considerably since then, but she still might not be coherent."

The room was in silence. Everyone deep in thought. Whitebeard had his hands clutched tightly together under his chin, trying to control his anger. He was constantly scolded by his sons about his temper, and how breaking the ship wouldn't solve any problems. But breaking some skulls would solve everything. To let the so called gang abuse and permanently effect his daughter's future was a disgrace to his name and honor as a father. If he couldn't protect his youngest child, what was the use in being the strongest man alive?

"We attack." Whitebeard said finally, "We will completely annihilate this 'gang'. You understand? Marco, have the twelfth division find out their base by morning. That is when we attack, prepare yourselves."

At his final word, they all took their leave. No one was going to argue, they all wanted the same thing as Whitebeard, revenge.

The only sounds echoing throughout the medical ward were that of a steady beat coming from Mila's heart monitor and the slight rustling of paper from Jim's desk, where he was examining Mila's report again. Thatch was resting in a chair placed next to Mila's bed where he could watch the steady rise and fall of her chest. It was late into the night and most were sleeping, preparing for their attack on the Two Stars in the morning.

The door creaked open as Haruta tiptoed in. He and his seconds in command, Noah, had just returned from their mission in the city, and while Noah went to bed, Haruta went to go check on his longtime friend and partner in crime, who had barley said a word to anyone all night.

"How she doing?" he asked after entering the room and getting no reaction from Thatch.

"She hasn't woken up yet." he said simply, his voice void of emotion.

"I can watch her," he offered, "the fourth division is in the lead group for the attack, you should get some sleep."

He shook his head, eyes focused and unblinkingly staring at Mila. He had yet to take his eyes off her as they talked, "I want-, I need to be here when she wakes up." Thatch's voice cracked with sadness

A piece of Haruta's heart chipped off at hearing his friend with such a hopeless tone, "This isn't your fault, or anyone's fault." Haruta tried to reason with him. "She's going to be okay, and the only thing we can do is kick their asses for hurting her. And we can't even do that we you're asleep on your feet."

"But it is my fault," Thatch's head whipped to face Haruta, his hair limp and eyes bloodshot from sleep depravity, "how can I, or any of us, claim the title of brother if we can't even protect our little sister!" His voice had risen and was laced with pain and anguish. Regret flickered in his eyes and he turned back to Mila, still fast asleep. "We can't, not after this," He mumbled in a much more somber tone.

"No," Haruta started to turn to leave, "we have lost the right to claim that title now, but we can regain it once again." The medical wing door softly slipped shut, leaving Thatch alone to mourn over his failure, and to realize that it was not the end.

The silence that filled the city was deafening. It was as if the citizens could feel the impending destruction looming over them.

The only area not effected by the ominous mood was a so called 'abandoned' warehouse near the ship yard, where the Two Star gang happened to call home. The usual daily activities were going about that day like any other, men were counting wads of money, drugs were being smoked and snorted, alcohol was being consumed in immense amounts and gambling was taking place at every table. If anything, it was calmer than usual.

That was until the giant sliding door splinted into pieces as the one and only Whitebeard Pirates made their entrance. On the front lines were first division commander, Marco the Phoenix, fourth division commander Thatch, fifth division commander, Flower Sword Vista and none other than Whitebeard himself.

A senior member of the Two Stars moved forward slowly, shaken by the sudden appearance of one the four great emperors in their base of operations, "May I- " he stuttered under Whitebeard's glare, "may I help you?"

Without a single word, Whitebeard swung his giant bisento into the shaking man, and knocked him across the wide warehouse and into the wall, where he left a man sized dent before he slumped over unconscious, maybe dead, against the floor.

Everyone in the building suddenly drew their guns, or pulled out their knives or swords. They then all turned their weapons towards Whitebeard and his crew, a stupid decision on their part.

"I have no interest in talking to talking to you scum." He spat, "I am only here to send a message." He took one fist and smashed it against the air, sending cracks in the atmosphere and shaking the ground.

"STAY AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!" he yelled, the earth split open at his feet, an enormous crater divided the warehouse in two. Some of the more unfortunate fell straight into its depths and straight to hell.

Taking that as the signal, the first, fourth and fifth divisions charged into the broken warehouse, weapons raised. At the sight of the blood thirsty pirates, the gang members lunged straight into battle. Only one hesitated before entering the massacre. His ring suddenly feeling heavy with the dried blood that of a tiny girl claiming to be a pirate. He hadn't bothered cleaning his ring after the beating, he saw the blood as a trophy. But now, as it dragged him down as he tried to escape his certain death, it seemed more like a curse.

From his spot in the sky, Marco spotted the coward running away. A real man would never run away from a fight. Marco dove in phoenix form, blazing a trail of brilliant blue flames in his wake. He scooped down and caught the man by his shoulders and ascended back into the air with him in his clutches. He struggled fruitlessly as he tried to escape Marco's iron hold on him, arms flailing. A glimpse of silver caught Marco's eyes as he spotted a blood stained ring on the cowards hand, on it was the raised imprint of a star. Fury ripped through Marco, fueling his blue flames to grow brighter and stronger. He was Mila's attacker.

For a moment, Marco contemplated just dropping him, and let gravity take its course. He would be more than satisfied just to see his corpse splattered on the ground. He deserved worse though. He spotted the man with the most hatred and grief in his eye on the ground, swinging twin swords viscously, as if he was putting all his emotions into each strike. Marco descended just enough so when he dropped the scum, he wouldn't die, sadly

Thatch was barely effected by the man who was deposited from the sky to in front of him. Marco was always the best at gift giving. Without questioning the reason his friend had dropped the man in front of him, Thatch attacked, sending his into a flurry of slashes.

The men had to first take a few seconds to realizing he flying, then a few more to realize he was falling, and then even more to realize the there was a mad pirate with crazy hair in front of him slashing willy nilly. He dodged just in time to get away with a nick on his cheek. When the man's swords came down upon him once more, he knew that this pirate was out for blood. The man drew his tonfa from his waist band and grabbed the perpendicular handle attached a third of the way down the length of the 20 inch long stick. With his weapon in each hand, he was prepared for the pirates next attack, he blocked his one sword with the back of one of his tonfa, while flipping the other out and blocking his other sword.

Thatch jumped back from the man, his forearms raised and prepared to block his next attack. Thatch had cut down every man that had blocked his way before, and he would not let this one escape. He swung his right sword down on his head, and the gangster blocked by forming an X with the tonfa, this locked Thatch's sword in place, but also immobilized his opponent. Thatch took his other sword and swung it straight into his side, imbedding itself deep into his flesh. The man gasp, spitting out blood. He collapsed and released Thatch's sword from his grip. Not giving him another thought, Thatch swung his sword down on his head, letting the man's blood spill onto the floor as he moved onto his next target.

That night the city of Etoile was stained red by the blood of the Two Star members. Every base was annihilated by Whitebeard Pirates, not one survivor. That night was recorded as The Star Massacre.

The newspapers didn't scream of the viciousness and heartlessness of the pirates the next day, but of the blessing they bestowed upon them by freeing them from the hold the gang had on the city. It also pronounced to the world that the Whitebeard Pirates would always be welcomed in Etoile.

**(A/N)** So Thanksgiving is next week, and all my family lives in the middle of nowhere, so I might not have access to a good computer for writing and updating. For those who haven't noticed, I usually update a new chapter every Tuesday, I'll be home by then, but depending on my schedule I might not have a chapter finished by then. So you never know. Thanks for all the positive feedback for the last chapter, I hope for more. Favorite, follow and review.

LB


	14. Chapter 13

**(A/N) **Yea, I'm back in civilization! Due to being in the middle of nowhere throughout the week I typed the majority of it on my phone. So, there's probably a decent amount of mistakes and such. I probably should have spent more time on it, but since I got such great feedback from the last chapter I wanted to put this one out as fast as possible. Hope you enjoy!

LB

Chapter 13

Mila POV

The first time I woke up it was dark and quiet, just how I liked it. I slowly cracked open my eyes to discover that I was in the medical wing instead of my room, that was the last place I remember being before blacking out. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes then carefully pushed myself up using my left arm, vividly remembering what had happened in the alley. My right arm was heavily wrapped in bandages. I hesitantly wiggled each of my fingers on my right hand, confirming that I still had use of each one. Even though I had full use of all five of my fingers, I could barely bend my arm while I tested its limitations, pain ached throughout it.

I looked around the medical wing to find that Thatch was sleeping soundly in a chair next to my bed. I noticed a few nicks and scratches, probably from a recent fight. I really hope that wasn't because of me I thought.

My stomach made an unattractive grumbling sound, interrupting my thoughts. The last thing I remember eating was a lollipop, and who knew how long ago that was. I glanced around the med wing, seeing if I would get lucky and find that someone left some dinner or something. It seemed I had shit luck, since there wasn't a nibble in sight. First I get beat up and an alley and now I had to starve, the universe must be against me. I sighed, I really didn't want to get up, but I was really hungry.

Thinking only of the yummy food stashed in the kitchen, I blinked into the heavenly place where the food was kept. It must have been either really late or really early, since no one was in the kitchen. I cautiously walked to a bowl of fruit on the counter, not putting too much strain on my weaken body, I knew I shouldn't be up and that if any of my brothers knew I would be in deep trouble, but the shiny red apple was calling to me. I fumbled with it for a second before taking a bite. I would have to get used to becoming a lefty since my right arm just lay limp at my side, not listening to my commands. I looked at the useless appendage, I wasn't exactly sad about its immobile state at the moment, more disappointed in how easily it was beaten.

I scarfed my apple and even grabbed a second before blinking back into my bed in the med wing, not bothering to clean up after myself. I snuggled into my pillow, laying my right arm gently on my side. I smiled at the sleeping Thatch.

"Good night Thatch," I whispered and fell back into the now comforting darkness.

Izo POV

"Who the fuck left a mess in my kitchen?!"

The head chef of the Moby Dick screamed as he emerged from the depths of the ship. Dom rarely left the kitchen, he got up early and stayed up late cooking for the ginormous crew. He had few rules for those who worked in his kitchen, the first was to never serve spoiled food, put effort into the work or get the hell out, never let Thatch near him, and never, ever leave a mess. He was scary enough to enforce each of those rules even though he didn't belong to any division. The burly aging man had plenty experience with a variety of sharp tools. Dom with a kitchen knife was enough to even scare Marco away.

"Oh shit," I heard someone mumble, everyone knew that Dom emerging from the kitchen was a bad omen. Everyone could feel his anger, some were even smart enough to vacate the area.

"Hello Dom," I said, trying to diffuse his short temper.

"Izo" he snapped, waving one of his kitchen knives in the air, "were you in my kitchen?"

"No," I soothed as I backed away slowly from the dangerous cooking utensil, "what's wrong Dom?"

"Some bastard left, not one, but TWO apple cores on my stainless steel counters! Two Izo, TWO!" Dom was so infuriated that he was shaking.

"I'm really sorry, but there isn't anything to be done about it now." I said trying to reason with him.

"Oh yes there is," he shook his knife in my face angrily, I jumped back just in time to keep my nose attached to my face, "I'm going to catch the little fucker and slice him up!" Dom shot off in a flurry.

I sighed, I now had to alert everyone the he was out for blood. The few times that situations like this had happened before someone had always ended up in the medical wing.

Mila POV

My stomach gurgled angrily at me for not getting up earlier. Even though at that particular moment, I was in the kitchen spreading peanut butter on two slices of bread. I had blinked in there the moment I woke up, craving peanut butter.

My midnight snacks were becoming a regular thing. I have yet to wake up during the day, it might be myself conscious trying to avoid the confrontation with my brothers or dad. It might also be that I have evolved into a nocturnal human. But then again, that might be me avoiding the problem again. It was hard to avoid though since every time I woke up Thatch was sleeping in the same chair by my bedside. I wonder what he does while I'm absorbed into the darkness. What happened to my charismatic brother who always had a smile on his face?

I sighed as I smashed the pieces of bread together, thinking about Thatch will only make me feel worse. I know I should ease my brother's worries by waking, but I'm still not ready. My right arm has yet to move from its pitiful state at my side, I do t think I could handle everyone's pity right now. I would be babied and treated like the little girl who was beaten to the ground in that alley. And I was no longer that girl.

Izo POV

Dom was on a rampage, and I was on a mission.

It was the sixth time Dom had found a mess in the kitchen when he came in that morning. Dom had nearly killed his kitchen staff again that morning after discovering an open jar of peanut butter, a sticky knife, and crumbs on his counter.

I had taken it upon myself to find whoever the culprit is before Dom murdered anyone. It had to be someone who had a thing for midnight snacks and balls of steel.

Now I know Thatch is neither, but he is known for messing with his crew brothers. So obviously my first stop was to medical wing, where Thatch had put up camp next to Mila's bed.

After beating the shit out of the Two Stars and setting sail once again, Thatch had not moved from the medical wing. He slept there, ate there, he did everything there, other than take a shower, sadly. Even though his meals were brought to him there, Thatch might be sneaking a little extra on the side. Like most men on the crew, Thatch had an enormous appetite, so I wouldn't be surprised if he was the midnight snacker.

Inside the medical wing was the same thing as yesterday. Mila was still lying unconscious on her bed, Thatch was still sitting next to her staring absently in space. A sad scene that the crew was starting to become accustomed to. The first few days when Thatch began to stay holed up in the sanitary room, his brothers had stayed and tried to comfort or talk to him. They all soon learned that Thatch was mostly unresponsive while absorbed in his thoughts. They decided it was better to let him think in peace, and let him be.

"Thatch, have you eaten today?" I asked

"No, no one has brought me breakfast yet." He replied simply.

"Well, Dom is having a bit of a fit at the moment."

The normal Thatch would be interested in ship gossip, ready to use it as leverage against his brothers. This Thatch only replied with a simple, flat, "oh really?"

A little deflated by his lack of enthusiasm, I continued my questioning. "So you haven't had any peanut butter sandwiches in the last 24 hours or so?"

"What?" Thatch pulled his eyebrows together, not taking his eyes off of the blank space in front of him. "No, what are you talking about Izo?"

I sighed, defeated, "nothing of importance, how is Mila doing?"

His eyes seemed to get more distant than before, "Same as yesterday, she hasn't woken up yet."

"Oh," was all I could say. Mila had only improved in the fact that her bruises and cut on her face were healed and her bruised ribs were better, according to Jim at least. Her arm was still wrapped in thick bandages. She looked peaceful at the moment, not like when she had been hallucinating. Her features were relaxed and eyes lightly shut. She wasn't screaming, her lips lay slightly parted now, only a smudge of peanut butter sat by the corner. Wait, peanut butter? I leaned in closer to Mila so my face was hovering just above her. That was defiantly peanut butter on her mouth, but what was it doing there.

"Izo?" Thatch said, sounding slightly concerned for his brother, who looked insane as he glared at Mila's mouth. "What are you doing?"

I stepped back and pointed accusingly at Mila's mouth, "peanut butter"

"What?" Thatch leaned closer to Mila, "what the hell?" He said once he saw that I wasn't completely insane and saw the peanut butter, "weren't you asking about a peanut butter sandwich earlier?"

I explained the case of the midnight snacker to Thatch, and how I was searching for the culprit, "But you said she hasn't woken up, so Mila couldn't possibly it." I reasoned, Thatch nodded, deep in thought as he stroked his goatee.

"Yeah, it can't be" Thatch said half hearteningly, not entirely convinced himself.

Mila POV

I slowly arched my back as I ascended from the darkness of my sleep. My spine creaked and cracked as I stretched. When I opened my eyes to glance at the sleeping Thatch next to me, I was shocked to find out that he wasn't sleeping. He was wide awake, his elbows on his knees as he rested his chin in the palm of his hands. He looked a lot like dad as he stated at me with knowing eyes.

I jerked back in my bed, why was he was awake?! It was the middle of the night. As Thatch continued to stare at me, I stuttered under his watch, "I-I can explain-"

"Are you hungry?" He asks calmly. I notice a plate of roast beef on my night stand. I nod and he passes the plate and the fork next to it to me. I begin to eat, every so often I would glance at Thatch, whose eyes never left me.

After I had finished and was pushing a half-eaten carrot around my plate, I tentatively said, "So I've been found out?"

"No," Thatch said, "Only I know, Izo might suspect something though."

I nodded, keeping my head down. I couldn't decide if I was embarrassed or ashamed about being found out.

After more agonizing silence, Thatch spoke up rather abruptly, "I get it," he said, "Not waking up that is. I would see why you would avoid us, even though we're family."

I played with a loose thread on the blanket in my lap, "I just don't want to face reality yet. A lot happened, I don't think I can really deal with all that yet."

"You don't have to just yet. Just stop leaving a mess in Dom's kitchen before he kills us all." I laughed, it felt like I haven't laughed in years. Thatch stood up from his chair and stretched out his back, he cracked a smile after hearing his joints pop "I think I need a night in a real bed for once." Halfway through the door, he turned his head and said, "Remember, you don't have to deal with everything alone." He gave me a calm smile and a soft, "night Mila"

I smiled, "Good night Thatch."

Izo POV

I couldn't decide what surprised me the most, that Thatch sitting on the sparring deck, not inside the medical wing by Mila's bedside, or that Mila was sitting next to him. I rubbed my eyes, I had to be hallucinating. Yesterday she was unconscious in her bed, now she was sitting causally next to Thatch watching Fossa and Vista spar. She even had a shadow of a smile on, even though her right arm was constrained in a sling.

"Mila!"

Her head bobbed away from the intense match, she grinned at me when she saw I was standing there, "Hi Onii-san,"

How could she act so causal!? Why was Thatch just sitting there? He was the most concerned about her, and now he's just sitting there like he's about to have some tea and cookies! "You should be resting in bed! Does Jim know you're awake? What about Pops or Marco? You should put sunscreen on! You'll burn out here! What are you doing?" I nearly screamed.

She tilted her head to the side, her moss green eyes bright "I think it's time for me to learn how to fight," she glanced at Thatch next to her, "Right?"

Thatch chuckled at her in good humor, he smiled, "sure chicky"

"WHAT!" Everyone on this ship has gone insane.

**(A/N) **Okay, so not a very eventful chapter, but it's leading up to the good stuff. Keep in mind all this is going on while they're heading to Fishman Island, where the real shit will go done. I am just so excited for that, like I can't wait to write it. It will have to wait though, because Mila still has some developing left to do before then. I almost forgot, Blinking Child has a total 50 followers and over 4,000 views at the moment! I know that's not a lot in the whole scheme of things, but it means a lot to me that all these people are following Mila's adventures. So a big thanks you goes out to all you followers out there!

LB


	15. Chapter 14

**(A/N) **I do not like this chapter. I rewrote it at least six times and I'm still not pleased with it. So sorry in advanced. Rewriting it so many times caused a minor delay, hence it being released on Wednesday instead of Tuesday, which I might start to do now. I have nothing on both Wednesday and Saturday, the other days I work or have school activities and such. Maybe I'll move it the update days to Saturday, any preferences?

LB

Chapter 14

Third POV

Mila shrugged, "Yeah, why not. It's about time."

"No! Absolutely not!" Izo cried, "You were unconscious just yesterday and all you're thinking about is fighting?"

"Why shouldn't I be thinking about it?" She said, a slight tinge of anger was laced in her voice, she did not like being told what to do, "If I had known how to fight properly I wouldn't have been unconscious in the first place!"

"She technically wasn't unconscious," Thatch mumbled under his breathe, not really wanting to get in the middle of their spat.

"You're just a child," Izo's voice softened a fraction, ignoring Thatch's earlier comment.

"So? I'm also a pirate!" Mila was practically screaming at this point. "If I learned, I could be as good as a fighter as you, or Marco. I just want to learn!"

"What about me?" Thatch grumbled, but was continued to be ignored.

"No, that is my final answer Mila." Izo said, finally putting his foot down.

Irritated, Mila puffed out her cheeks, "Well sucks, 'cause Fossa already agreed to help me."

"What?!" Izo spun around to glare to Fossa, who had halted his match with Vista and was wiping sweat of his brow. He seemed unfazed by the sixteenth commander's glare as he reached to grab a cigar from his pants.

"What," he shrugged causally, "how could I say no to such a cute face?"

"By growing a pair!" Izo shouted.

"Izo, it's not your choice, so you have no say in the matter." Mila protested, the most defiant look in her eyes.

"Really, because last time I checked you were ten and too young to make your own decisions." He said this harsher than before, Izo was losing patience quickly.

"Well, last time I checked, you weren't really my big brother." She hissed, venom in her voice.

Izo froze, pain filled his eyes. Thatch elbowed Mila, "Come on Mila, your taking this too far." He sounded slightly afraid of this new, harsher Mila. Thatch understood reusing to listen to Izo, he did it all the time, but this was too far.

"No, I'm not." She spun on him, "I don't have to listen to any of you, you're not my family!" She screamed, puting full force behind her word. Mila didn't even wait for their stunned reactions before disappearing. She left the sparring deck in thick silence.

A yellow tuff of hair peaked over the roof of Whitebeard's cabin. Mila was sprawled out on top, her sling flung to the side and her arm draped over her stomach. She looked miserable in the beautiful midday sun. "Hey Mila,"

She didn't even acknowledge Marco, Mila just glared harder into the sun.

"So," he said as he heaved himself onto the roof, "heard about the little incident on the sparring deck."

"So?" Mila snapped.

"I was just going to complement you on your great performance." He said causally, stretching out next to Mila.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She stated blankly.

"Really? So you didn't purposely piss of Izo and Thatch so they couldn't possibly pity you because they're too busy thinking you a brat."

Mila snorted, "How did you come to that conclusion pineapple head?"

"Well," Marco reached over and grabbed her sling, "I overheard a certain conversation late last night and once your break down spread over the whole ship, I put two and two together."

"Hmmmm," she rolled her head to the side slightly to gaze at Marco, "Maybe you're not as stupid as I thought you were pineapple head."

Marco chuckled, "I have been around for quite a while."

She rose an eyebrow, "How long exactly?"

He shook his head, "Now is not the time for that conversation, you have more important things to think about." He shook her sling, "like how to get over this and make it up to Izo and Thatch."

Mila flopped her head back against the roof, "I was kinda going to avoid that. I came up here to hide for a reason."

"You keep claiming to be a pirate, but a real pirate doesn't back done for anyone or anything."

"When did this happen?" Izo complained as he vented to Haruta and Namur and devoured a bowl of ice cream, "Wasn't she just a cute bubble of cuteness, now she's a cute bubble of poo."

"Poo?" Namur commented unhelpfully, he had never been one for consoling others.

Haruta shoved him in the side, "It's probably just a phase." He defended the girl.

Another scope of ice cream was shoveled into Izo's frowning mouth, "Nah," he swallowed the lump, "You should have seen her face, it was all pissy and mean."

"She's ten," Namur said, "ten year olds are like birds, they change their minds every five minutes. She'll get over it."

"Namur's right," Thatch approached their table in the dining hall, he swung his long legs over the bench. "She's just being a fucking brat right now." He scrunched his face up in an unpleasant expression, "we had this perfect moment last night, and it's like she flipped this bitch switch on."

Izo was so distressed he didn't even scold Thatch's potty mouth and continued to eat his ice crean. "Wait, what happened last night?" Haruta asked.

Thatch shrugged, "She was the midnight snacker, and I stayed up till she woke up and we chatted. She was all nervous and insecure and adorable, and we had this heart to heart. Then this morning she came to find me like nothing had ever happened. We went to the sparring deck together 'cause she wanted to fight and shit. Everything was going fine till Izo came and screwed everything up." He glared at Izo who just kept shoveling spoonful and after spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

"Bitch switch," mumbled Namur understandingly.

Thatch threw his arms up in triumph, "Exactly!"

"Guys, I don't think that's an actual thing." Haruta protested.

"But it is!" Thatch moaned.

They continued their battle over the 'bitch switch' theory as Izo stared at his empty ice cream bowl, only hoping that Mila would get over it.

Mila didn't get over it, at least not right away. Neither Thatch nor Izo saw Mila for at least a week. At the most they would see a glimpse of blue hair or a flash of overalls as she blinked throughout the ship. With the fewer sightings of Mila, the angrier Thatch got. He thought they had reached a good place, but no, she had flipped her 'bitch switch' and all the touchy feeling crap went down the drain.

He was being extra pissy when he walked into the med wing on a search for his favorite yellow scarf which had gone missing. It was the last straw, all he wanted was his favorite scarf and didn't even want to go anywhere near the med wing, it only fueled the anger caused by Mila.

Thatch flung the med wing door wide open, causing it to slam against the wall. The cracking noise would have disturbed the patients, if there had been any. Apparently everyone was being far too safe.

"JIM!" Thatch yelled to the back, where Jim was usually located, stuffing his nose in a giant stack of papers. His desk was empty, but one of the cloth partitions were drawn between one of the beds. Through the partition Thatch could see two figures, one was taller and bulkier, probably Jim. The other was seated on the bed, and had a small, petite frame. Mila.

Ohhhhhh, Thatch was about to get hella salty. He charged over to the covered bed, ready to give Mila a piece of his mind. When he tore away the thin cloth, only Jim was standing there, a strange contraption in hand.

Thatch narrowed his eyes at the innocent doctor, "What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously. The doctor was starting to look very nervous, drops of sweet started falling down his forehead. He shifted the thing in his hands nervously. The thing consisted of a variety of gears and bolts, long metal bars connected two parts. "What's that?" Thatch pointed a sassy finger at the thing.

"Nothing," He shifted so that the object was partially concealed from sight.

He creased his eyebrows together, "What was Mila doing here?"

"She wasn't here." Jim lied, he was a pathetic liar too.

Thatch snorted, "Whatever, I'm just looking for my scarf." Jim jerked his head over to his desk. Thatch spotted his trusty yellow neckwear on top of an enormous stack of papers. Without taking an extra glance at Jim or his weird item, Thatch left.

Izo was sitting at his desk doing the most boring job required of a pirate, paper work. While shifting through a pile of soap and shampoo inventory lists, a soft knock broke his concentration.

"Come in"

The door creaked open to expose a certain little girl. "Um, I have something for you."

Izo nodded, mouth hanging slightly open. She had been avoiding him for a week, and now she just pops out of nowhere? What was even going on?

She slowly edged her way closer to him, keeping her right arm concealed behind her back till she reached his desk. She slowly took her arm from behind her back and exposed her new accessory. Encasing her right arm was a metal mechanism decked out with gears and bars, as her arm moved, so did the gears. She placed a handwritten note onto his desk.

Izo glanced up at her before picking up the small piece of paper and reading it. On it was scrawled a messy '_I'm sorry'_, the handwriting was almost unreadable, nothing like the particular print Mila usually produced.

"I wrote that with my left hand," Mila said, replying to Izo's scrutinizing look, "I don't have enough use of my arm to write yet, so I'm learning to become left handed."

Nodding, Izo started at her right arm, "And that?"

She lifted her right arm up, gears creaking and cracking. "This is a brace Jim gave me, Blenheim helped him make it, he said it will let me move my arm without putting a lot of strain on it. Eventually I can take it off and use it normally, after some therapy, or at least that's what Jim said."

"Does it hurt now?"

Mila shook her head, "It aches, but I doesn't hurt as much when I move now. Jim said I can start to train with it on as long as I don't put too much stress on it." Izo raised a critical eyebrow, this was leading to their original argument. "And I wanted to ask if you're okay with that?" Mila asked sheepishly.

"Really?" Izo rolled his head to the side, "Because last time you said you didn't care what I said. And didn't you also mention something about Thatch and I not being you're real family?" he asked sarcastically.

"I didn't really mean it, I appreciate your opinion. You and Thatch are really my family, so is everyone on this ship. I don't have anyone else, please don't be mad." Mila begged.

He slowly raised his gaze from Mila's new brace and reached a hand down to his desk draw. Izo pulled out a pink baggy, the ribbon still see cured tightly. The bag was plopped on the desk in front of Mila.

Taking a curious step forward, Mila took a closer look. The wrappings were the same form the Sweet Tooth Candy shop. Mila reached forward hesitantly, glancing up at Izo, who gave her a reassuring nod. Bending her right arm at an odd angle, not quite use to the brace yet, Mila opened the bag. Lollipops flooded out of the bag, spilling onto the desk. Some slipped to the floor, and Mila tried to catch them, but her brace locked up at the quick movement. She bent down and picked up a blue lollipop with her left hand and brought it up to her face to examine it. It was defiantly the same kind from the store she had visited before.

Easing up, she tilted the lollipop toward Izo, "Where did you get these?" she asked.

"A young lady came to the ship while you were hiding in your room, she wanted to give you theses and thank you for saving her brother, the man in the alley you saved. She worked at the candy shop you had visited apparently. Did you know they were related?"

The blue haired girl nodded, "The hair color gave it away." She regarded Izo carefully, "Why are you giving them to me now?"

"You want me to forgive you, right" Mila nodded. "But family doesn't have to ask for forgiveness, for you there is nothing to forgive. The girl never gave up on her brother, like I will never give up on you. I will always be here for you Mila, I might not approve of your decisions or your attitude, but I will never leave you. Just like Thatch or Pops won't. I hate to break it to you, but your suck with us."

Mila's smile seemed contagious it was so bright, "I'm okay with that!" She eagerly unwrapped her lollipop and stuck it between her lips. Izo grinned at the girl, who spun the lollipop happily, carefree, only her, only Mila.

Something was on his face.

What was on his face?

Why was it on his face?

Why was it so early?

Thatch blindly patted his face for the object disturbing his facial hair. His large hand pulled the object, which turned out to be two things, off his face. He peeled his eyes open to see what he had retrieved.

In hand was a note, a blurry '_I'm sorry' _was scribbled on it, with a little _M_ at the bottom. The other was a yellow lollipop, a yellow that it almost looked radioactive. Thatch's early morning frown broke into a wide grin. That girl, he thought, she's something. He laughed out loud, only Mila could make Thatch laugh that early in the morning.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Mila POV

"Don't lift your feet!" Vista instructed as I completed my 42nd sit-up of the day.

A crowd had gathered on the sparring deck to watch Vista work my butt off, a daily routine now. For two hours every day a commander got to train me, and after almost a five days of sit-ups, laps and other muscle building techniques, I have yet to pick up a weapon. I thought the whole part of me learning on how to fight was I actually learn to fight, not to look like a beef cake. While my body was slowly becoming toned, my arms still looked like limp spaghetti. Jim ordered my trainers not to put strain on my right arm till I got through his therapy, which took up another hour of my day. He also enforced this by watching my two hour practices religiously. My other brothers just like to come and mock my lack of endurance.

By my 44th sit-up, I gave up. I flopped back on to the deck, lacking the energy it took to pull my body up again. "Mila! You still have six more!" Vista yelled at me. I groaned, despite his friendly mustache, Vista was a hard ass when it came to training. You have to be tough to duel the greatest swordsman in the word and come out alive. I took a deep breath and tried to pull myself up again, but dropped back to the floor half-way through. My chest heaved and I was sweating like a dog in the heat. I regret not listening to Onii-san now.

"Go Mila!" I heard Thatch yell. Thatch had recently took up the position of being my personal cheerleader. He even came with his own pom-poms. He seemed to have forgiven me for flipping my 'bitch switch', he had to explain what a bitch switch was first though. Now he was my number one fan again.

After making a bunch of disgruntle noises to reply Thatch's cheering, Vista stood up, releasing my feet from his hold. "I guess that's it for today then," he said, "But tomorrow you have to do six extra sit-ups to make up for it."

I took his offered hand and pulled myself, which was almost as painful as the sit-ups. "If you insist." I moan.

Once I was up right, I reached over to my arm brace and loosened the gears on my elbow. After using it too much, my brace likes to lock up at odd angles. Wearing the thing has gotten easier with each day, but I still hated it. It was too bulky and hot, it itched all the time and my arm still hurt like a bitch. I refused to inform Jim of this, because if I did he would surely take it off and stop my training. Which wouldn't be too bad, but I was determined to kick butt as soon as possible, even if I had to cut off the stupid arm.

A large hand came and thumped me on the back, forcing me to stumble forward under the weight. I glared up at Thatch, who was grinning like crazy. "Good job out there chicky!" I grunted my thanks as I grabbed my towel on the side to wipe off my excess sweat, "Such a good job deserves a reward." He said in a sing song voice.

"Really? What do I get?' I asked, mildly cautious, because you never know. It is Thatch we're talking about.

"News," he said, "your training will be canceled tomorrow…" I beamed, already liking where this was going, "because we're docking at Sabaody Archipelago tomorrow!"

"Really!" Sabaody meant Fishman Island wasn't that far away.

"Yup, we just have to get our coating then we're off to the deep blue." Thatch exclaimed.

"I can't believe it!" the only way I could release my joy was through bouncing vigorously up and down.

"Well you better, because it gets even better." Thatch was now my favorite person of the day, "Marco also convinced Pops and Jim to let you go with us to talk to our ship coating guy."

"Ship coating guy?" I cocked a critical eyebrow at that news. What was so special about a ship coater?

"Oh no," Thatch said grinning and shaking his head, "this man isn't a run of the mill ship coater, he's-"Thatch was broken off by the look out's call

"Unknown pirate ship port side!"

Both Thatch and I darted over to the left side of the ship, despite my screaming muscles. Off a few miles in the distance was a small ship, at least compared to the Moby Dick. Thatch rudely grabbed a pair of binoculars from a brother to his right and looked through them. I could see him glaring at the ship as his eyebrows creased in concentration.

I eagerly tugged on his sleeve, "What do you see?"

Tossing the binoculars to me, he frowned, "It's some newbie crew, I don't even know their jolly roger. They're not even worth a second of our time." Thatch said displeased.

Bringing the binoculars up, I spotted the ship in my view. Thatch was right, the crew was new to the grand line. They first set sail six months ago, but that wasn't what concerned me. I pulled the binoculars away and returned them to their original owner, "Hey Thatch, that ship,"

"Complete newbs right?" he said, interrupting me.

"Well, yeah. But the Jolly Roger, its-"

He interrupted me again, sparking my irritation, "Oh yeah, who the hell has a jolly roger with a squirrel on it? Out of all the animals, they pick a squirrel, I totally would've picked like a lion or something bad ass like that." He rambled, picking at his finger nails causally.

"I know, their the Squirrelly Pirates and-"

"Oh yeah, I keep forgetting you're a little human database." He said, flicking the yuck from under his finger nails over board, "page 573, line 27, word 6."

"Microgreen, but that's beside the point-" I try to say, putting more power into my words.

"Thatch!" Curiel yelled from the other side of the deck, interrupting me once again, "We need your help with inventory."

Thatch sighed and ruffled my hair as he said, "Well see ya chicky!" He jogged over to Curiel and a giant stack of shampoo crates.

"AHHHHH!" I flung my arms up in frustration, but my sudden outburst angered my brace and the gears locked up with my arm half-way raised and at an odd angle. "Crap" I muttered as I reached up and started the agonizing task of unlocking the gears. Stupid Thatch, if he didn't want to listen to me than he can go get squashed under a crate of shampoo for all I care. Boys were so stupid.

The next morning I snuck out on to the sparring deck again, though I wasn't planning on training, hell no. The Squirrelly Pirates were still stationed a good way off from us. Not coming any closer than a mile or two. As I slinked to the rail, decked out in my trusty overalls and armed with a little something I liberated from Marco's room last night, I prepared for my leap. It was early enough that no one would see me, but light enough to see my target.

Taking a deep breath, and secretly hoping I wasn't going to screw up, I blinked out into the open sea. In a split second I was falling, air rushed past me as I dropped toward the deadly water. For a second I panicked, quickly glancing around, seeking the Squirrelly's ship. Once I spotted it again I blinked once more before sinking in the water. This time I made it to my target and landed solidly on the wooden deck. Like I expected, no one was on deck. I slipped into the lower deck, seeking out their submarine bay. So far so good.

The thing about the Squirrelly pirates is that they steal from other pirate ships, then they hoard their stolen goods like squirrels do with acorns before winter, hence their name. Their method, observed by many unsuspecting marine cargo ships, is to use their captain's devil fruit power, the blow- blow fruit, to make bubbles of air to cut out a hole in the storage area at the bottom of the ship, discovered by the reckon team they send in the night before, and steal everything. Then the captain retracts his air bubble and lets the water flood the ship to sink it. The crew's total bounty was 100,000,000 berri, they may be new to the grand line, but they were obviously still a threat. But a small enough threat that I could handle them by myself.

We would be arriving at Sabaody Archipelago at noon, so I had a plenty of time for my plan, so as long as the ship doesn't go beyond four miles, I'm good. If they went any farther I wouldn't be able to blink back. There was also the chance someone would notice I was gone, but where could I go, we were in the middle of the ocean. No one would suspect I boarded any enemy ship.

After creeping through the poorly funded ship, I reached the bottom, where the whole crew was gathered and loading into their three submarines. The night before I had looked up blueprints of submarines in Blamenco's personal archive. Since the sixth division is in charge of repairs for the ship, they had all the good stuff.

If I could just get to the submarine's engines I could easily sabotage each one and escape the ship before the whole thing blows up. The only obstacle was a mechanic working on one of the submarines engine, and to do this right, I need to be able to blink to each engine with seconds. If I didn't they would blow before I could sabotage the last one.

I blinked over to a shadowy hallway near the mechanic silently. I grabbed a bolt from the floor and tossed it further down the hall, making a loud enough noise for him to hear it. My plan worked when he ventured down the hallway, straight past my shady hiding place. I reached into the back of my overalls, where my hands were met with what I assume was white oak. The weapon consisted of a stick with a perpendicular handle attached a third of the way down the length of the stick. I had a habit of spying of my brothers, and I had spotted Marco with them, he had called them tonfa. He never uses them, just stuffs them in a locked box underneath his bed, like he doesn't want anyone to find him. Woops. Since Blenheim keeps all the crew's weapons under lock and key, at least a better lock than Marco had, this was my only option for a weapon.

I gripped the handle on the tonfa with my left hand and brought the butt of it down on his head as the mechanic bent down to pick up the discarded bolt. I held one of the tonfa in my right hand, but keep it still, since my brace didn't allow that kind of movement.

As he hit the floor with a satisfying thump, I blinked to the submarine he had just been working on. I had at least five seconds before a crew member spotted me, just enough time for me to grab the right bolt from the engine and blink over to the next submarine. With each submarine, my time decreased by 2 seconds. By the last submarine I only had I second left before someone spotted me. I reached into the engine and grabbed the blot and stuck it into my pocket, I thought I had cleared my mission without a hitch till, "INTURDER!"

"Crap," I muttered to myself. The men now noticed my presence. Some were a tad befuddled by a ten year old playing in their engines, others just pulled their weapons and charged me. Before they even had a chance to reach me I blinked back up to their main deck, silently counting down the seconds till the ship would blow. I now only had to spot the Moby Dick and I was home sweet home in two blinks. If only anything was that easy for me. Men were already rushing up onto the deck surrounding me.

"Crap, crap, crap!" I couldn't see the Moby Dick past all the men, curse my shortness! The men formed a tight circle around me, weapons drawn. In response to their hostile attitude, I drew the tonfa. The one thing I didn't consider when I stole them was that I didn't actually know how to use them. So I grabbed the hilts and hoped for the best.

The men flew at me, swords a-swinging. I dodged most of them thanks to Jiru's agility training, who would have guessed that have tennis balls chucked at you for two hours would actually be beneficial? A taller man swung his sword down onto my head, I dodged it soon enough to only escape with a nick on my forehead. I felt the blood start to seep from it, dripping down into my eye. I reciprocated his slash with a jab to the nuts with the left tonfa. I was only using my right arm for dodging, I couldn't risk it locking up right now.

The countdown clock in my head was too close to zero than I would like. Instead of continuing to play with the crew members, I blinked above their heads and onto their mast, I searched the horizon for the Moby Dick. I did find it, not too far off from when I last left it. Closer though, was a marine ship, what was that even doing out here? Well poo, the ship was going to blow any minute and I was still on it and the Squirrelly Pirates were yelling at me from below. This was not going my way.

A scream from below me finally reached my ears, "Who are you!?"

I smiled, looking off towards the Moby Dick, my stormy blue hair whipping past me, and smoke started to rise into the air, "A Whitebeard Pirate!" With perfect timing I blinked off the ship seconds before it exploded.

Panting, I let myself fall towards the water for a moment. Using my ability for such long distances was exhausting beyond belief. Letting the air whip past me, I pulled out another once of strength and blinked back onto the ship. Almost.

I missed the ship by a foot or two landed right next to it. A scream escaped me as I clawed at the side of the ship, trying to stop the rapid descent. One of my flailing arms was captured by a firm grip. I looked up to see a familiar pineapple head pulling me up onto the ship.

While halfway stuck on the railing and the deck is when Marco let go of me. I peeked up at him, grinning, "Good Morning Marco."

He shook his head, smiling, "Hey Mila."

"You have to stop doing this!" Izo yelled at me while I sat, pouting on Dad's shoulder. After Marco had saved me and I had been dragged off to the medical wing to get my bumps and bruises checked out, I was sent into Dad's office where I forced to listen to Onii-san yell at me while I played with Dad's tassel shoulder thingies.

Izo continued on his rant, "You keep going off on your own and doing reckless things, and this time you didn't just try to stand up to a few thugs, you blew up a pirate ship!" While Onii-san yelled at me I imagined what color his face most resembled, at the moment it was either a strawberry or a tomato. It was hard to decide which one was the most accurate description of his complexion. "You need to at least tell someone you're going off and doing dangerous things!"

I frowned, "They were going to steal from the ship, and I had to stop them." I protested.

"Well we would have helped you if you had told us," Thatch commented from the side lines.

My frown deepened, "I tried, but you kept interrupting me."

Thatch blanched, "Oh, ummmmm, so that was what you wanted to talk about." He scratched the back of his head while giving weak smile.

"Mmmmmhmmm" I sassed.

"Gurararara," dad shook under me as he laughed at our trifle, "Mila dear, next time leave a note before blowing up enemy ships."

I pecked him on the check, "Of course," I smiled as I blinked off his shoulder, "I'm going to go change for Sabaody, see you guys in a few!" I waved as I left the room before Izo's second reign of terror descended. Before leaving completely, I turned to Marco and waved one of the tonfa at him, "I'm keeping these by the way."

"LEAVE A NOTE?" I chuckled as I bounced down to my room, today was turning out to be a good day after all.

**(A/N) **So this chapter feels kinda of random, like what does any of this have to do with going to Fishman Island? Well, it doesn't, but it has another significant aspect the will be revealed in later chapters. Speaking of chapters, next week is Christmas! I will be out of town next week so we'll see if I can get another chapter up on schedule.

LB


	17. Chapter 16

**(A/N)** So, I didn't get a chapter out in time last week, but come on, give me a break it was Christmas. So as a bleated Christmas gift (and an apology) this chapter is extra-long, like 3k long, not my normal 2k. There might be some other familiar characters in this chapter too, if you catch my drift ;) Enjoy and Happy New Year's Eve!

LB

Chapter 16

Third POV

Being dragged through one of the most dangerous lawless groves in Sabaody Archipelago by a ten year old girl, was none other than Marco the Phoenix, first commander of the Whitebeard Pirates. Mila's excitement had gotten the best of her once the Moby Dick had docked, Mila had bounded off the ship, not bothering to wait for Marco, who was in charge of meeting with the coating mechanic. Marco had to change forms just to catch up to the brat.

Most of her excitement had come from just being off the ship and on an island that didn't have people on it who wanted to kill her and being so close to Fishman Island. The rest may have come from having her brace removed, temporarily of course. Jim had said if she wasn't planning on using her arm, that it was fine to remove it. And maybe the tiniest, bittisest bit was from her new outfit. It consisted of a pale blue dress with light yellow collar and cuffs and brand new shoes. Izo had laid it out the night before for her, before Mila had decided to go blow up a pirate ship of course.

Now Marco was being dragged around by her, a girl who had never even been to the island, because she claimed he was a 'slow pineapple'.

"So, are you ready to meet our coating mechanic?" Marco asked as Mila stared wide eyed at the bubbles overhead.

"I don't see what's so great about this guy, he's just a mechanic." She said, watching as a bubble floated higher and higher into the sky.

"You'll just have to come and meet him then," he said as the bubble Mila had been observing popped.

"Okay," Mila started, taking her eyes off the empty space where the bubble had previously resided in. "I'll meet this dude, as long as you stop being a mosey posey."

Marco chuckled at Mila's childish phrase, her inner child peeking through her intelligent, slightly brat exterior. Sometimes the crew forgot that Mila was only ten, and still a child, because most of the time she acted more of an adult, than the rest of the crew. "Of course,"

She beamed and finally let Marco lead the way to grove thirteen.

Mila POV

In front of them stood a rickety old building with moss growing up the sides topped off with and old and worn sign.

"Shakky's Rip-off Bar, really? This is where the amazing ship coater conducts his business?" I asked, glaring at the sketchy building critically.

"It's bigger on the inside," he assured.

"It's not the size I'm concerned about," I muttered under my breath as Marco headed into the shack. I took one last glance at the disarmingly ugly exterior before I chased after him.

Inside the bar wasn't much better off than the outside. No one was inside except for a lady with black hair, who was cleaning glasses behind the bar, and an old man nursing a glass of something strong smelling.

"Hello Shakky, looking pristine as usual." Marco bobbed his head at the women, presumably Shakky, and took a seat at the bar, a stool away from the old man, who had yet to look up from his glass.

"Ah, Marco the Phoenix, it's been awhile since you wandered over to this side of paradise." Shakky set a glass down in front of Marco.

He wrapped his long fingers around the glass, "Well, we had to pick up this little jewel from over in the north blue, and now she insists on going to Fishman Island." He nodded over to me in the corner, where I had stayed hidden from sight, observing the scene from afar. Until Marco had pointed me out at least.

Shakky leaned over the bar smiling sweetly at me, laying her elbows out on the top, "Hello, I'm Shakky."

I reciprocated her friendliness with a smile of my own, "My name is Mila, and I'm a Whitebeard Pirate."

She chuckled, standing back up, "So you are."

"Marco," the old man spoke for the first time, his voice full of hostility, "what kind of man are you?" his voice gaining volume. "What kind of decent human being brings a child into such a dingy bar!?"

Marco laughed at him, while Shakky whapped him on the head with her towel. "It's good to see you too, Rayleigh."

Wait, that name. It sounded too familiar. I jumped up onto the stool between him and Marco and leaned in front of him so I could get a clear look at his face, a face that I had memorized from multiple reports form the navy. Everything down to his circular glasses and his signature scar and facial hair proved to me who he was. "Are you Silvers Rayleigh, as in Dark Knight Rayleigh, first mate to the pirate king?" I demanded, leaning closer to his face.

He leaned away from me and looked around to glance at Marco, "Is she another crazed fan?" he asked.

Marco chuckled, "No, just a human database."

I interrupted them, "You bounty is still intact toady, and is one of the highest in the world! No one in the Navy has had a single sighting of you since Gol D. Roger was executed, and you have been hiding right under their noses!"

"A human database you say?" he asked curiously, ignoring me.

I nodded, "I ate the Mabataki Mabataki no mi, and I can memorize anything in a blink of the eye. I was owned by the World government and memorized every single document they had, and when I say every single one, I mean every single one, everything down to the janitors calendar to top secret documents, this include detailed accounts of all the crimes you and your crew had ever committed." I leaned even closer, wondering if my eyes could go any wider, "You are a living legend, every government employee would take the chance to kill you! "

Rayleigh chuckled dryly, "Should I be proud of that?"

I nodded vigorously, so very close to his face, "You bounty's out of the world! It's my goal to have such a big bounty as you."

He regarded Marco, "You sure know how to find the ambitious ones, don't ya?"

"We excel at finding the very best on board the Moby Dick,"

Shakky tilted the glass she was drying at Marco, "Example one,"

"So little girl, if you're interested in having a high bounty, do you know how to fight?" Rayleigh asked as he took a long sip from his glass.

"Of course!" I yanked one of the tonfa from under my skirt, where I had strategically placed them there that morning, "I blew up a pirate ship just this morning!" I said, waving the tonfa in his face.

"Well, you've got some spirit, that's for sure," he said, smirking. He rose from his stool, gracefully, like a predatory wild cat. "Let's see what you've got,"

I eagerly took off after him as he excited the dingy bar, not listening to Marco as he called after me. He led me to an open grassy field not far from the bar, and planted himself on the edge. I followed his finger as he pointed to the middle of the clearing.

"Now what?" I asked, barley containing my excitement.

"Get your other weapon out, I'm just going to throw some rocks at you, the goal is not to get hit."

I snorted, "That's easy," I reached up my dress again with my left hand and pulled my other tonfa out from its secure position and passed it to my right hand. I spaced my feet evenly apart, a stance I had seen my brother's perform many time before.

Bending down to pick up a few stray pebbles, he murmured, "If you say so." Once straightened, he tossed a few of the pebbles into the air, testing their weight. "Ready?" he inquired. I nodded, raising my left tonfa. He watched my right arm inquisitively but said nothing.

I barely had time to react before the first pebble came sailing towards me. It was just a tiny blur as it sailed toward my head. Just in time to save my face, I blinked away, then reappeared in the same spot. Rayleigh sent another pebble toward my left side, where I blocked it with the tonfa. He directed the next one towards my right, but I spun to hit it with my left tonfa, sending it to the side. The speed of which he sent each pebble at me increased, until I had trouble keeping up. He tended to favor my right side, pinpointing my weakness. I was too weak without my brace to move my arm more than an inch to the side without wincing, so too make up for that, I was bouncing to the left side and spinning to use my left tonfa. Which was becoming more and more comfortable as I went.

Mid-spin, I felt a tiny disturbance behind me, like a feather tickling me behind my neck, and before I knew what I was even doing, I held up my right tonfa to block the tiny pebble soaring at the back of my neck. I yelped, my arm sent throbbing sensations up and down. It took a lot for me to fight my watering eyes. While tightening my grip, I realized that the pebbles were no longer attacking me.

"Why did you stop," I panted.

Rayleigh tossed the rest of his pebbles to the ground, clearly finished with the exercise "I've seen enough to measure you potential." He looked over at Marco, who was rushing towards us at alarming speed, "You should go tell your big brother that you're fine."

The tears that had been building up in my eyes were scrubbed away by the time Marco landed by my side. "Mila! Are you okay?"

I nodded, waving him off, "Just a little hot, worked up a sweat and all."

Marco didn't believe a single word I said, but accepted it anyways, "Shakky has some juice in the bar for you."

I nodded, and started my hick up the hill leading to the bar. Leaving Marco and Rayleigh, maybe not the best idea.

Third POV

"Rayleigh," Marco hissed at the larger, stronger man, sizing him up, "what were you thinking?" his voice at threatening low whisper.

"I was just testing her," he replied nonchalantly.

"You knew she was injured, and yet you didn't stop?"

He shrugged, "When I got my face cut up I didn't stop for a single second,"

"She's just a child, not the first mate of Gol D. Roger."

"But she is a member of one of the four emperor's crew, she has to learn how to overcome her pain." He peeked over at Marco, "How did she receive such a gruesome injury under you're careful watch?" he sounded only mildly interested, a hint of a mocking tone was also detected.

Marco glared at his casual posture, "She was attacked by a gang on an island while on the way here, and she woke up recently from a comma she received from an infection."

"Ohhh," Rayleigh stroked his stripped facial hair, "Such an interesting girl. Along with being a 'human database' as you refer to it, she also exhibits powerful raw form of Observation Haki,"

"You noticed it too?"

"Of course, I sensed it the first moment she walked into the bar. I actually would be interested in helping her harvest her power, she could be quite a fearsome appoint with the right training."

"She is not leaving our sight again," He smirked at his old friend, "Not even to train with an old geezer like you." Marco joked.

Silvers Rayleigh let loose a loud, hearty laugh, "Old geezer? You're older than me!"

Mila POV

I swung my stubby legs under the bar as I sat atop one of Shakky's old bar stool, sipping a glass of apple juice that she had handed me previously. Silence floated between us comfortably, Shakky was a calming, motherly presence, I had no need to fill the silence with useless facts such as an elephants gestation period is 19 months. Even with the relaxed atmosphere, I had the need to break it, there was something that had been itching at the back of my mind since I recognized Rayleigh.

"Shakky?"

She didn't glance up from her cleaning, only hummed a relaxed "Hmmmm?"

"Aren't the Whitebeard pirates and the Roger pirates supposed to be enemies?"

A soft giggle escaped her lips as Shakky looked up at me, "Well, to the rest of the world, they probably seemed so. They were more like competitive friends, extremely competitive, competitive to a fault actually. But in the end, there was no real hatred between the crews."

"So, Dad and Gol D. Roger were friends?"

"To an extent," Shakky mussed, "before the end of Roger's life, I believe the age of rivalry ended over a glass of sake. They were never too close, not like the rivalry between Dracule Mihawk and Red-Haired Shanks. Those two are extremely close for being enemies."

"I'm confused then," I stated, setting down my glass with my left hand, my right arm still ached, "If they weren't friends, then why do we use Rayleigh as a coating mechanic?"

"Ahhhh, that is a relationship that goes back years before the founding of both crews," She leaned forward on her elbows, easing closer to me, "As a child, Rayleigh was saved by Marco when Pirates attacked his island, which sparked a lifetime friendship between the two. That is the reason why the Whitebeard pirates uses Rayleigh's skills, so that the two friends can be reunited every once and awhile."

"Awwww," I smiled sweetly at Shakky's heartfelt tale, who knew Marco had a soft side.

Just then, the old softy entered the bar, Rayleigh at his side, both looking much jollier than they had when I left before.

Marco tossed me my sling from inside his jacket, "Put that on, I'm not going to get into any more trouble than I'm already in just cause you're being stubborn," he declared like a good big brother.

I saluted him, with my left hand of course, "Aye aye," I whipped the strap over the my head and slung it down to my right, gently placing my right arm in, tucking it in nice and tight.

"Good," he nodded, probably pleased that I actually listened to him for once. "Now that you're set, it's time to head back to the ship, Rayleigh has agreed to coat the ship,"

"Like always," Shakky commented from her place behind the bar.

"It would normally take ten days to coat such a big ship-"

"Whaaaaaaa!" I whined in protest, as a young girl my attention span lacked in length and resolution.

"But," Marco smirked, "with Rayleigh's superb coating abilities," said Rayleigh snorted, "has arranged it to be finished in five days tops."

Still a little displeased at the amount of time we'll be stranded on Sabaody Archipelago, I protested, "What am I supposed to do till then?"

"Well, there is an amusement park," Shakky spoke up, "it's quite an attraction."

This spiked my interest, "Really?"

"Oh yes, rides and games, the whole nine yards. It has been such a long while since I've visited, and with such a slow day…" she let her words fade off as she watched the lights in my eyes grew, letting her answer dangle in front of me.

"Could we really go? I've never been to any sort of amusement park."

Rayleigh chuckled from the side, "What sort of child hasn't visited an amusement park?"

"One that's been stuck on a dead end north blue island for seven years, that sort of child." My words were light as I mouthed back at the Dark Knight. I felt just a little bit empowered as I sassed him. Not just anyone could get away with that and retain all their limbs.

"Since you're so inexperienced, I could spare some time to show you the best spots, Shakky only knows so much after all." The way he tried to reason with me, he sounded almost like a small child. It was almost as if he was trying to convince himself than me.

"Ahhhh, oh no," Marco said, his mother hen started to peck to the surface, "you'll end up taking her to the auction house or gambling dens. And what happened to coating the ship?"

Rayleigh frowned, "When did you become such a stick in the mud Marco, I remember the days when we actually had fun."

Shakky gave a ladylike snort, as if there was such a thing, "I don't even remember that."

Marco gasped, "Shakky, when did you become so cruel?"

"When I hit menopause," she said jokingly, winking at Marco revealing a rare blush crept its way up his neck and to his cheeks.

I stared at them in awe, "How old are you?"

Her smooth wrinkleless face creased as she grinned slyly at me, "Oh, Mila. So young, so naïve. Listen well, this is something you must never forget," I leaned in closer, half over the bar, "never ask a women her age, and if you must answer, lie." With the last word, she winked again.

I laughed aloud, I was beginning to love Sabaody Archipelago, "I'll commit that to memory then." I tried to say it with the most serious face I could muster, but my laughter leaked through.

"Maybe you should write it down then," Marco mumbled, pouting off to the side.

"I'll consider it," said Shakky, her composure perfect, unlike me, who was almost falling off my stool laughing.

"Oh shut it," Marco grumbled as he swiftly swept me up mid fall and deposited me on firmly on my feet, "don't we all have things to do?"

"I'll go grab my equipment," Rayleigh complained, but before leaving completely, he downed the glass that had been refilled with the stinky brown liquid.

Shakky finally emerged from behind the bar, "That must be our queue then, are you ready Mila?"

Nodding, I adjusted my sling and straighten my dress, "Let's go, the day is fading after all."

The nagging mother hen chose to butt in at that moment, "So very true, be back at the ship before dark, in one piece preferably,"

"Of course Marco," I said this while discreetly hiding my eye roll.

He sighed, defeated, "Why don't I believe,"

Following Shakky out the door backwards, I tried to imitate Shakky's sly smirk, "Because I'm a pirate," I gave my best wink, and twirled around, my dress fluffing up in the most pleasant way possible. Quite pleased, with my performance, I raced after Shakky.

Five days later

Third POV

The Moby Dick, freshly coated, was finally ready to set sail for Fishman Island. To see them off were Shakky and The Dark Knight Rayleigh. They stood close together on the edge of the mangrove, the perfect place to wave goodbye to the little blue blur aboard the giant ship. As the ship started to descend into the water, the said blue blur disappeared from the deck, and appeared falling towards them. She hit them with a firm impact, Rayleigh caught her easily as she clung to Shakky with her left arm.

"I promise to come and visit again," Mila said, tears filling her eyes, but a strong smile dominated her face. She let go of a smiling Shakky only to latch onto Rayleigh. She buried her face into his neck as her brothers screamed from aboard the ship, which was quickly disappearing into the depths of the deep blue. She quickly glanced back at the ship, then back at them, still smiling she said her last goodbye before blinking back onto her ship, leaving Rayleigh uncomfortably light.

They stayed and watched the ship until they could no longer see it. Sighing, Rayleigh turned away from the vast ocean he had once explored with his crew, his own family. "I like her." He said to Shakky, one of his only friends remaining on the grand line.

"That's a surprise, you're usually such a grumpy old man." Shakky said jokingly, but out of the corer of his eye, he glimpsed her wiping away a lone tear.

"I picked it up from you."

"Hey!"


	18. Chapter 17

**(A/N)** Wow it's been awhile hasn't it? Now I know I shouldn't try and make any excuses, but there were finals and I would like to actually get into college eventually. Anyways, this chapter kinda jumps around, it's pretty choppy actually. I could have fixed it, but then who would want to wait another whole week to read about Mila and her Fishman Island adventures? First though, right now on Fishman island, Queen Otohime has been dead for two years, Princess Shirahoshi is eight, Fisher Tiger is dead too and Jinbe is a warlord. So know you guys are all caught up to date with the events of Fishman Island, you may continue.

LB

Chapter 17

Third POV

"So pretty…" Mila breathed. Absolutely mesmerized by the deep sea, Mila lay stretched out on the main deck, in everyone's way of course. No one could bare to ask her to move though. She would lay in almost complete silence, just staring, which was slightly disturbing, but then she would burst out giggling, pointing out some weird fish or something. If someone was close enough, she would grab their pant leg or ankle and make them stare off into the water with her, like the child she was. That was until Marco would come around and yell at them for not working. Marco would also scold Mila, but she just blatantly ignored him. Then again, he didn't use much force behind his words. She was too cute to disturb. Taking away the small wonders of the fish and water would just be too cruel.

The deeper they descended, the darker it became, naturally. Once the ship reached a depth where it was difficult for one to see their own hand, Marco transformed. He perched atop the mast in all his birdy glory, acting as a night light for the crew. And when some too curious fish wandered too close to the bubble, acting as our guard bird he would squawk repeatedly at the poor fishys. Their trip only got really exciting when some nasty looking sea kings charged the Moby Dick.

When the sea kings keep a constant, fast pace, as they approached the ship after Marco's threatening squawks, Namur launched himself out of the bubble and into the ocean. Mila shot up from her inconvenient spot and raced over to the railing. She ran with such force, that the solid wood of the railing was the only thing that stopped her from toppling over the side. Namur swiftly dealt with sea kings. They were no match for him in the water, his element. The fishman boarded the ship soon after the sea kings sunk deep to the ocean floor. He shook himself of the stray water droplets that had dared to still cling to him.

Mila stared wide eyed at Namur, she had never witnessed the fishman in action in water. It was a truly amazing sight. Thatch wandered towards where Mila was staring at Namur like a fangirl, "Pretty amazing, right?" he said, shrugging his elbow against her shoulder nonchalantly.

"Amazing?" Mila turned and clutched his arm, "He's beyond amazing! I've never seen anything swim like that."

Thatch laughed at her exaggerated reaction, "And we're heading to a whole island full of fishman just like Namur, some are even more spectacular than him though. You should meet King Neptune, or his daughter, now they're a sight."

Thatch continued to muse about all the fishman on the island, and eventually trailed off to the topic of mermaids. He got a little doe eyed then. All Mila could think about was the island full of amazing people like Namur.

Mila POV

I've seen a lot of things, or read about them at least, but nothing prepared me for what I saw. When I imagined Fishman Island, I imagined it bland and colorless, due to the lack of exposure to light, but what I saw was the exact opposite. Beautiful rays of light shined down from above radiating from an unknown source. The light glimmered against the giant bubble that incased a beautiful island covered in colorful coral buildings.

I was on the very edge of the bow of the ship when we entered the island and landed in the harbor. I wasn't going to miss a single thing, starting now. The harbor was filled with ships and people. When I say people, I mean both regular humans and fishman and merfolk. And I thought humans were diverse. The citizens of Fishman Island were full of color, from their fishy parts to their skin or hair, not a single one of them looked the same. It was all so amazing.

I was leaning over the edge of the ship at the cheering crowds, who knew people would ever cheer for pirates, when Namur ran past me and jumped off the ship. He landed solidly on the deck of the harbor and kept a constant pace as he raced inland. Confused on Namur's sudden, sporadic behavior, I blinked onto the main deck where everyone was preparing to dock and head ashore. Everyone was in a euphoric mood, laughing and jostling one and other, I spotted dad near the middle, a grin plastered on his face. I blinked onto his shoulder, a habit I was starting to adopt.

"Dad, why did Namur run off?"

"It's a tale of heartfelt love my dear sister!" Thatch said, raising a glass of what I presumed was alcohol, apparently he couldn't wait to depart the ship to start the party.

"Love?" I crinkled my eyebrows skeptically.

"Yes, your brother Namur has a wife on this island, a beautiful mermaid named Mesi."

"Namur's married?!" I was shocked, understandably.

"She's a babe!" Thatch yelled, thankfully, someone smacked him over the head.

Dad ignored Thatches sophomoric remark and continued, "They were married young, before he joined our family, after I claimed the island he insisted on joining my crew. Sadly he left Mesi behind, she is too frail to brave the rough sea, if she were healthier, she would have gladly followed her husband to the ends of the earth."

"Wow," I said in awe.

"Love is powerful thing child, whether it be from a lover or family," Dad gently reached up and lifted me from his shoulder, "love is immortal and unbreakable, no matter where you are." He set me gently on the deck as I stayed in entranced in his words. "Now come, you wanted to come here so bad, we should go ashore, you should go and explore and I have an appointment to keep."

I gripped dad's hand as he led me down to the dock, the rest of my brothers following lead. Many fishman came up and talked to my brothers, but they all cleared a path for dad and I. They all seemed to fear dad a little, I was fine with that since it gave us plenty of room to walk through the thick crowd.

"Do you have a Mesi?" I asked, I had noticed that he had redirected the conversation of love to my inner curiosity.

He gazed down at me, "A lover?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "you've been alive a long time, I would assume you had to fall in love at least once."

He looked back up, eyes straight ahead, "Someone held my heart a very long time ago, but now my love belongs to the sea and you brats." His voice was distant, not quite sad, but depressing all the rest. As if he was trying to sound strong.

"What happened to her?"

"She's not with us anymore." He said simply.

Before he had a chance to explain, a large Fishman came tumbling toward us. "Whitebeard!" He was a large blue whale shark fishman with a build that resembled that of a sumo wrestler. I instantly knew who he was, all his files were locked in my head. Jinbe, First Son of the Sea, first a soldier, then a pirate, and now currently one of the seven Warlords, a dog of the world government.

I gripped dad's leg, shielding myself partly behind him. "Dad, he works for the government. I don't want to go back." I rapidly whispered. Not many knew of my existence, being such a value commodity and all, but I knew the Seven Warlords had knowledge that I existed. In a state of emergency where the government had been corrupted or betrayed, one of the seven were to dispose of me and my knowledge. I don't know what they would do in this case, either kill me or drag me back to the government. One or another, I didn't like the outcome.

"Mila," Dad gently pushed me forward with his hand, forcing me out from behind his leg, "its fine, he's a friend."

Even with the reassurance, I darted behind his leg once again when he reached us. "Jinbe," dad spoke, "I believe we were going to meet in the Sea forest,"

"We were, but there have been a series of thefts throughout the last month, and the thief just struck again. I came in investigate." The giant man explained. He hadn't seemed to notice me yet though, which was good. I didn't trust him, even if dad said he meant no harm, I trusted no one alighted to the government, they are the true seed of evil in the world.

Dad seemed to accept his explanation, he nodded, "Since you are here, I can introduce you to my new daughter," He tried to gently push me forward like before, but I resisted, so instead he just grabbed a strap of my overall and dragged me frontward. "This is Mila."

I cringed at his astonishment, he recognized me. "Whitebeard, that child…" Jinbe started, but let his thoughts fade off, shocked to see me here.

"You are familiar with Mila then?" his tone was a clam, threatening one. I didn't know what dad would do if Jinbe acted or said something wrong, but his tone implied that it might cost Jinbe his life. The tension between the two showed in the crowds of people walking by, some stopped and watched the two men, while others walked a little faster

He nodded cautiously, choosing his next words carefully, "Yes, I am aware of her standing within the government, but I have yet the pleasure of meeting her."

"She is no longer part of the government, she is under my protection, I hope this won't cause any problems between us."

Jinbe seemed to recognize the underlying threat in dad's words, "No, known at all." Jinbe made eye contact with me and smiled, the proper etiquette dictated that I should offer a smile in return. But I believe that under these strange circumstances, that one could simply through etiquette straight out the window.

So I simply blurted out the first thing random thing that popped into my mind, "I'm going to go visit Namur!'

Jinbe looked taken back by my sudden declaration while dad, who was used to my odd behavior, simply said, "Mesi lives in the mermaid district, third to top floor."

That was plenty information to get me to my destination. It was also enough of a justification for me to excuse myself from the increasingly awkward and uncomfortable situation, and to get as far away from Mr. Warlord as possible. "Okay, thanks dad. Ummm, I'll see you tonight, I guess." I slowly backed away from the duo, never letting my back face Mr. Warlord. Once I was out of 'brutally murdering the government's rouge database child' range I darted in the other direction, not really caring if I was going towards the mermaid district or not. I just wanted to get as far away as possible.

In the whole scheme of things, running off willy nilly, might not have been the best plan. At wits end, completely lost, I decided that maybe I should stoop to asking directions. Veering to the side of the busy avenue I had ended up on, I found myself outside an open air bar filled with human pirates. A few things went through my mind as I hovered on the edge of the patio. First was a flashback to Etoile and the Two Star debacle, that didn't end well. But that was in some random city on some random island, this was Fishman Island, Whitebeard territory, and there were also plenty of witnesses, so there's that too. Onii-san's voice also nagged at the back of my head 'don't talk to strangers Mila', that was the easier of the two to shove down.

Once I got all the nagging voices in my head to calm down and chill, I went over to the nearest table to me on the patio and interrupted three pirate's midday drink. "Excuse me?" I said quietly, being a little more tentative then I had in Etoile, you never knew who would go bat shit crazy on you.

"Who the hell are you?" asked one, rather rudely, he looked like a stereotypical pirate from the classic novels I had liked to read on Salus before joining the Whitebeards. He had a big gut and a hairy chest, which was scarcely covered by a raggedy vest, a little too inappropriate for a young impressionable girl like me, but then again most of my brothers liked to walk around naked after drinking too much. Along with the pirate's vest, he even had an eye patch. The other two men were typical run-of-the-mill dudes with undistinctive clothing choices and appearances.

"I'm Mila, and I was just wondering if I could get some directions-," I started, staying politely quiet.

"Mila~," he said in a disgusted sing song-ey voice. "What makes you think you can come up to me, Captain of the Barracuda pirates, and ask for directions?"

"Oh, well my crew and I are stopping here and I didn't want to stay and talk to Mr. Warlord and dad, so I'm going to find Namur and his wife Mesi, and dad said Mesi lived in the Mermaid district, but I didn't listen to where that was exactly, and I ended up over here, but I don't know where that is precisely, so that's why I'm asking you very nice looking men for directions." I rambled, not sure how to talk to these rude pirates, but I thought adding the bit of flattery at the end would help my case a little.

They stared blankly at me for a moment, but one of the average dudes perked up all a sudden, he had a look of surprise and what seemed to be fear. He leaned over to his captain, keeping his eyes on me while he whispered rapidly into his ear. The captain's eye widen as he listened to his underling talk, I wiggled uncomfortably under his gaze. The other man just drank his bear, not really caring about his crew and the other ongoings not involving his drink.

As the underling pulled away from him, the captain leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "I'm sorry, but are you implying that you are one of the Whitebeard pirates?"

"Uh, I guess I am, well I am actually, I'm not really implying anything."

"Oh shit," he mumbled, "I'm really sorry, I didn't know, okay? Don't go tell your captain please, I would like to live to a nice old age." He pleaded.

I looked at him, shocked. I couldn't really believe that his personality had changed so much, "Oh, no I won't, I just want some directions please."

"Yeah, totally, as long as you don't tell your captain I'll tell you anything." He said, grateful.

I nodded, "Okay, where is the Mermaid district?"

The less drunk of the two underlings spoke up, "It's on the other side of the island actually, you could probably take one of those fish buses there, there's a stop right over there." He pointed to the corner, where the said fish bus pulled away and started swimming away. "Oh," he said, a little defeated, "another one will come by in an hour or so, you can hang with us till then. If you like that is,"

I shook my head, eyeing the fish bus as it got farther away, "Thank you for the offer, and for the directions, but I'll be off now." I gave a tiny bow to them, thanking them, then blinked onto the fish bus, catching it before it got out of my range. I landed on a super squishy seat, much to the surprise of the other patrons on the bus and the Barracuda pirates, who I left muddled at their table. I smiled at the other customers, swinging my legs over my seat, this was going to be a fun ride.

It took a total of twenty minutes for the fish bus to reach the mermaid district, which turned out to be underwater. At first I thought that might prove difficult to reach the third floor to the top of the complex that way, but I discovered a sort of bubble elevator. That was a fun ride too. I may have went up and down a few time before actually getting off on what was supposed to be Mesi's floor. Now what door to knock on first? This decision was made easier by the Whitebeard's jolly roger painted on one of the doors. Who else could live there other than the eighth division commander wife?

I knocked on the crest of my family, excited to meet Mesi. I wonder what she looked like. What kind of woman did Namur like, he seemed pretty solitary most of the time, and he was always the reasonable one out of the commanders, very serious. Did he go for reasonable girls? I could barely contain myself as I heard shuffling and water splashing from inside. I bet she's pretty.

The door swung open, showing Namur standing there, minus his shirt. "Mila?"

"Hi Namur! Dad told me where Mesi lived, so I came to visit!" I said, trying to peak around Namur to see inside.

"Namur? Who's at the door?" a soft, feminine voice asked from inside the apartment.

Namur looked between me and the person inside, he sighed, "Come on in Mila," he moved aside to let me in, and that alone was the only invitation I needed. The inside of the apartment was super weird. Half was solid ground I could walk on, but the rest was lowered and was filled with water, perfect for fishes. Which were swimming in the pool floor. The main room was small, with a shell couch and a small kitchen off to the side. A door was off to the side, where I assumed there was a bedroom. Relaxing on the shell couch, was a dark skinned women with dark brown hair framing a thin face and big eyes. A blanket cover most of her, but as she shifted to look at me, the blanket moved to reveal a red mermaid tail. So this must by Mesi.

She pushed herself up from her vertical position on the couch to get a better look at me, "Hello little girl," Mesi said.

I grinned, "Hi, my name is Mila and I'm Namur's little sister."

"It is nice to meet you Mila, I'm Mesi, Namur's wife." She said, smiling.

Namur closed the door behind me and walked over to Mesi on the couch. He sat next to her and put his arm around her, helping her sit up all the way. "It's really nice to meet you too," I smiled, coming further into the apartment peeking into the pool, being my nosy little self. I kicked off one of my shoes, flinging it to the side, and popped my toe in.

"Mila," Namur said with a disapproving tone dad and Izo had done pact, "if you fall in, I'll let you drown."

"Namur," Mesi whacked his lightly his arm, "that's no way to treat our guest. Come on in Mila, do you want some hot chocolate, it can be a bite chilly down here for some humans."

I nodded, making my way further into the room. Mesi pushed herself off the couch and away from Namur's strong grip. She splashed into the pool floor. "Mesi-"

She whacked at him again "shush, I'm fine." But when I really looked at her, I knew she wasn't. Her tail was bent in the strangest way, not the usual curve of a tail, it looked like it had been through the wash but hadn't been left out to dry properly, like it had a kink. Her swimming was a little crooked and forced, if her red tail had turned into legs she would surely have a limp. Under her thin, light blue long sleeves, there were light brown spots, a lighter brown than her already dark skin, where her skin and scales met. Mesi swam over to the counter of the tiny kitchen, pulling out a mug and a tea pot. I sat on the couch next to Namur, who watched Mesi carefully, ready to dart to her side at any moment. How curious.

"Miss. Mesi," I started as she placed the tea pot on the stove, "when were you diagnosed fibrous dysplasia?"

Namur tensed while Mesi smiled sadly and simply said "When I was eight."

"How did you figure it out?" Namur asked tersely.

"Fibrous dysplasia is an uncommon bone disorder in which scar-like tissue develops in place of normal bone. This can weaken the affected bone and cause it to deform or fracture. In severe cases the hormone-producing glands of the endocrine system produces light brown spots." I recited from one of my medical books, "Fibrous dysplasia is a genetic disorder and there's no cure. Treatment, which include expensive surgery, focuses on relieving signs and symptoms."

Mesi laughed lightly despite the morbid topic of her disease, "You sound like an encyclopedia, but a very cute one."

"Why do you sound so fine with everything? Doesn't it hurt?" I asked, Mesi's pot started to squeal.

"I play the hand I've been dealt, there's no use in arguing over it. And the pain, well you get used to it after elven years." Mesi pulled the pot from the stove, cutting off the squealing. She poured the water into a mug and plopped a spoonful of coco into it. Taking the spoon and the mug, she swam over to Namur and I in her own special way while stirring. She handed me the freshly made hot chocolate. "I've had help too, my lovely husband here has always been by my side, ever since we were kids, following my like a lost guppy."

"It was only because you were always tripping and fumbling everywhere, if I left you alone you probably would have broken your skull." He said, frowning.

She grinned, laying back in the pool, "I haven't yet though, so there's that."

Namur grinned and relaxed back into the couch, "How, I don't know."

**(A/N)** So many things going on! First off, Namur is married? Where did I even pull that out from? Yeah, Mesi's super cute though and her disease is an actual thing. I did research and everything! And then Whitebeard had a lover? What even?! I swear this stuff just popped out of nowhere, I had a plan, but my brains just like let's add all this random stuff too! And then Jinbe showed up, ad that seems pretty mellow compared to everything else. This chapter ended kinda abruptly, because if kept writing it would have been double, so I'll just have to leave you all in suspense till next week!

LB


	19. Chapter 18

**(A/N) **I have to announce a death. The thing called regular updates have passed on, they are in a better place now. Mila's Fishman Island adventure continues below, enjoy!

LB

Chapter 18

Mila POV

When I woke up the next morning, I was in a giant, puffy pink sea shell. That in its self is a little concerning, but then there were the giant brown eyes staring at me. I jerked up, startled.

"Oh my," Mesi lurched backwards, avoiding the impending collision with my head, which happened to be approaching hers at a startling speed. "Good morning Mila,"

My head whipped back and forth while I searched the foreign space I inhabited. The day before began to come back to me, I had fallen asleep after spending the rest of the day in Namur and Mesi's apartment talking with them. Mesi had some very incriminating stories about Namur's younger years. Speaking of Namur, he was standing/swimming in the kitchen in an apron. I blinked to make sure I wasn't still dreaming. What I assumed was Mesi's apron, had white ruffles around a pretty pink polka dot center piece. I had to admit, it was adorable. Namur stood there in all his pretty pink ensemble glory making breakfast like a good domestic wife instead of a cut throat pirate. Another story to add the list.

Hearing his wife, Namur looked over towards us. He saw my amused look at the sight of his outfit and scowled, "If anyone on the ship hears about this, your dead Mila, got it?" he hissed. I smiled and pretended to zip my lips shut and throw away an imaginary key.

"Mila," Mesi had slipped back into the pool floor, "are you hungry? Namur made a lot for breakfast,"

"I could eat," I said, sitting up, "I've never seen Namur even near the kitchen aboard the Moby Dick though, is it safe to eat?"

Mesi let out a breathy laugh, "Of course it is. He makes the best seaweed pancakes on the whole island, they're to die for."

I cringed, "Seaweed?"

"Oh yes, you must be accustomed to more human like food. Down here we mostly eat plants and such, very few meats if any." She explained, swimming over to Namur. "Over time you'll get used to it, most of your crew actually grew to like out cuisine after being here for so much." Mesi peaked Namur on the cheek and stole a plate of green disk looking things. "I'm not as good as a cook as Namur, but I've made plenty of dishes for Whitebeard and his men before." She handed me the plate along with a fork. I studied the disks carefully as I prodded them with my fork. For looking like a flattened green brick, they had a springy fluff to them. Hesitantly, I cut a small piece off with the side of my fork, tested it. Surprisingly, it did make me want to throw my cookies, maybe gag a little, but just a little. Repressing my gag reflex, I swallowed the seaweed pancake and offered Mesi a tentative smile.

She gratefully accepted my smile and leaned against the side of the pool, relaxing her tail from the constant treading of water she had to do to keep upright. She flicked her tail at Namur playfully as I sneakily shoved pieces of seaweed pancake in my pocket. Instead of returning her playful antics, he caught the end of her tail and stroked the light pink inside webbing of her fin. The look in Namur's eyes became more intimate as he stared into his wife's eyes. I awkwardly averted their seemingly private moment by squishing the pancakes into my pocket with more alacrity.

"Oi, Mila. How do you feel like exploring some sea caves today?" Namur said suddenly, his voice heavy and heady.

That sounded much better than just stuffing seaweed pancakes in my pocket all day, "That sounds amazing!"

Mesi lost her playfull attitude and sent a glare at him, "Namur," she hissed, "the sea caves are dangerous. No child should just go and play in them."

Namur tickled her tail, "Mila ate a devil fruit, she'll be fine. She can leave whenever she wants,"

Mesi frowned, I tried to reassure her by saying, "I blew up a pirate ship once, all by myself, and only came out with a scratch." But failed, that seemed to only upset her even more.

Namur swam over to her and leaned down and whispered in her ear. She flushed as he pulled away, "Okay, it sounds fine when you say it like that." I giggled as Namur kissed Mesi sweetly on the forehead. He didn't look like such a scary shark fishman with his sweet wife by his side. "But I assume that you'll be coming to the party at the palace tonight?"

Oh crap, "I never told dad where I was, I was supposed to go back to the ship at dark! He's going to kill me!" I said, starting to really panic, on the verge of hyperventilating.

"I called pops last night with our transponder snail, it fine. Just make sure you don't forget about tonight though, he's excited to introduce you to King Neptune."

"Of course I won't, you just have to point me to the way of the sea caves and I'll be back at the ship by noon, plenty of time for Izo to dress me up and everything." I defended.

Mesi let loose a deep sigh of defeat, two against one really wasn't fair. "Hon, on the top draw to the right, there should be a map in there."

I gasped, bouncing vigorously on the cushion, "map, map, map, map, map!"

Scrunching her eyebrows, Mesi looked critically at me, Namur shrugged "She has a thing for books."

"Information in general actually," I explained as Namur shuffled through the draw. "Really anything on paper, or stone, or papyrus."

"Here you go," Namur swam over and handed me the map, "Right here is the entrance to the sea caves." His blue webbed finger hovered over a dot near the edge of what was named the sea forest.

After one look, the map was engraved in my mind, but there was something missing, "There's no exit to the cave?"

"No, the sea caves are a seemingly infinite system of underground caverns underneath Fishman Island, no one has ever been able find the exit, or even the way through. It might not be stimulating enough for you, but it should hold your attention for the afternoon."

I contemplated the possibilities the sea caves could hold, mapping them would be enjoyable and it would hone my navigational abilities….. "Okay, I'll check them out, and I'll defiantly be at the ship before noon, this won't take long."

Mesi looked beyond confused, but Namur just nodded, "We'll see you at the party tonight,"

"Yup!" Using my information of the island and my newly inquired map, I blinked to the outside of the entrance of the cave, mentally gaging my expedition in the cave.

No one was around the ominous entrance, it seemed that the cryptic sign in front of the entry way scared most away. 'Death and defeat are ensured', oh how spooky. Not even though. Most of the sign was rotted away anyway so it look like 'ath and feat are red', in my opinion, that was more scary and threatening. Ignoring the controversial sign, I wandered in. The ground was uneven and bumpy, making me wobble side to side and I walked. The walls of the cave were only slightly damp, it was less gross than Namur's seaweed pancakes at least.

The icky uneven caves were calming though, only the sound of my footsteps and the slight rolling of dislodged pebbles and stones. Some would claim that the receding light and eerie silence was creepy, but it was a nice break from the chaos I endured everyday on the Moby Dick. I loved my family, but good god were they loud. Maybe after mapping the caves I would find a nice spot to read in here. Although I might need a flash light. The light from the sea forest was diminishing as I continued in. If only my mabataki mabataki fruit gave me night vision, that would be cool. Taking the waning light into account, I considered turning back, but then again what would I do till the party. Dragging my left hand along the soggy wall as a way to prevent me from getting lost, I continued on.

I kicked a few stones out of my way, taking away any hazards before I took an unfortunate spill in the cave. I had taken the tiny rocks into accounts, but I ignored the gaping hole directly in my path. I tumbled head first, rocks and pebbles scratched across my cheeks as I uselessly tried to seize the sides of the hole. My mind was too scrabbled to blink, all I could do was grab open air as I was tossed downwards.

I was spat out on spongy moss. It wasn't as nearly as painful of the fall down the hole, but far from comfy. I pushed myself up with my left arm, my injured arm ached from the tumble. My whole body did, but my arm especially. Surveying my landing strip, I found that I wasn't in complete darkness anymore. A soft blue glow was being emitted from the small crystals embedded in the ceiling. They dotted it like tiny stars. The crystals only illuminated a tiny portion of the cave leaving the far end full of gloomy shadows.

"Hello?" said a wobbly voice, one that did not belong to me.

"Who's there?!" I shrieked, I didn't want to meet someone near as crazy as me for going into theses death traps of a cave.

"Who a-are you?" said the darkness, the shakiness of the voice intensifying.

"I asked you first!"

"B-but I did," it asked shyly, such a gutless disembodied voice

Replaying the last five seconds in my head, and maybe I was wrong, a rare occurrence. "I'm Mila of the Whitebeard Pirates, now who are you?" I demanded while proceeding to stand up.

"Wh-white- whitebeard?" it asked, I could hear the immense fear within its stuttering voice.

"Yeah," brandishing the power I held by being a part of the crew, owners of the island, "Whitebeard's my dad,"

Hasty shuffling reached my ear from the back of the cave, "I didn't do a-anything."

I inched forward, tilting my head to the side as if that would help me see around the darkness, "Didn't say you did, did I?"

"Yo-ou're with Wh-whitebeard," it said unsteadily, anxiety laced among the stutters.

"Yeah, so? If you didn't do anything, as you claim, then I don't see a problem with any of this." I took a bold step forward, "Unless you're lying, then we might have a problem." Silence encased the cave as I continued to walk forward, toward the bodiless voice. "Who are you?" I asked gently, fearing it would scurry and hide like a scared animal. I abruptly stopped as I heard nervous shuffling approach me in the light.

"I am Killian," edging out of the darkness, a boy of my age emerged. He was basically a bag of bones with a thin sheet of alabaster white skin draped over. His skin was the whitest I've ever seen, whiter than Onii-san's when he put pounds and pounds of powered on, it was near transparent. Rags covered his translucent body, his shirt hanging on by single thread on one shoulder, a long dark scar decorated the same shoulder. Fins went up the sides of his lower arms, almost identical fins were in the place where his ears should be. Killian was a fishman. His hair, the same white as his skin, hung down in front of his face in greasy clumps. His eyes, the doors to the soul, weren't there. Where his eyes were supposed to be were just sunken skin. He had no eyes, not like they were removed, it was as if they had never been there in the first place.

I attempted to hold back my completely mortified gasp, trying to feign normalcy, "Nice to meet you, Killian." My voice was shaky, like his, sacred and timid.

Killian cringed at my voice, slowly backing back into shadows "Its m-my face?" he said in his eternally soft voice.

"What are you talking about?" I said with forced lightness, "You're face is fine."

"Voices, I g-good with vo-voices. I don't have e-eyes. I don't know what e-eyes are, I know I never h-had them. People have that v-voice when they come n-near me. It's bad."

"Eyes are the organs of vision. They detect light and convert it into electro-chemical impulses in neurons. In higher organisms the eye is a complex optical system which collects light from the surrounding environment, regulates its intensity through a diaphragm, focuses it through an adjustable assembly of lenses to form an image, converts this image into a set of electrical signals, and transmits these signals to the brain through complex neural pathways that connect the eye via the optic nerve to the visual cortex and other areas of the brain."

"I-" he started.

"They're just organs like the kidney, but not everyone needs a kidney." I sympathized.

"What's a ki-kidney?" he asked, edging out of the darkness once more.

I snorted, "You don't know what I kidney is? What kind of school do you go to?"

"What's a school?" he asked naively.

I sighed, blowing my bangs up, "This might take a while,"

It did take a while, but eventually Killian's looks faded away, his having no eyes seemed like an irrelevant factor once we started to talk. He was ignorant to basically everything. He only knew few words and phrases, and his stutter wasn't because he was nervous, it was because he hadn't talked to anyone in years. He lived in the caves, only leaving for food, which he didn't need much because according to him, he rarely got hungry. When I asked how he navigated through the caves, he claimed he felt the air patterns, or at least that's what I assumed he said, he said something along the lines of "feeling space". It was sometimes hard to make out his broken language, but he always hot his point across one way or another. The one thing he wouldn't explain was how he had gained his scar and how he had ended up living in the caves. He would retreat back into himself upon those questions.

Lying back on the spongy moss Killian used for a bed, I counted the glowing crystals on the ceiling aloud for Killian. "Ten, elven, twelve, thri-" I shot up, startling the skittish Kilian. Oh crap on a cracker, I forgot about the party! Having no idea how much time had passed since entering the caves, I looked gloomily at Kilian, "You wouldn't happen to have a watch or clock of a sort?" I asked uselessly. Killian shook his head, "That's what I thought," sighing, I stood up, sweeping my overalls clean. "I have to go, the king is having a party for us and I'm pretty sure I'm already late."

"Y-you're coming back?" he asked gently.

"Yeah," I smiled at him, "I'll come back tomorrow." I assured him. He looked visibly more relaxed than before.

"Good," he breathed, it was the last thing I heard him say before blinking away.

**(A/N)** For those who are interested, I did a picture of Mila and Killian and posted it one my deviantart profile, I gotta say, it's pretty cute. Here is link to my page - there is also a picture of Mesi posted up there too.


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Third POV

Shuffling through papers at his immense desk was Fleet Admiral Sengoku. A daily task for the Fleet Admiral was separating new wanted posters into piles of who he thought was the highest priority criminals. A tedious task, but one the Fleet Admiral must perform to ensure the safety of the people of the world. To be knowledgeable of the world's up and coming criminals was a necessity. While flipping through the bounty's under 10,000,000, he came upon a familiar blue head. A head that contained every military secret known to man.

"Captain Moore!" Sengoku's voice boomed throughout Marine Ford, Marine headquarters.

Almost out of nowhere, Captain Moore materialized in Sengoku's office doorway, "Yes sir?"

"Did you finalized theses posters?" Sengoku asked, raising the papers in his clenched fist.

"Yes, Captain Trap and I did, sir."

"What can you tell me about this poster?" He demanded, holding up the poster with the blue haired child.

Captain Moore squinted at the paper, "Her? I believe she blew up a pirate ship around Sabaody Archipelago."

"Does she belong to an organization or pirate crew? Who is she associated with?" He commanded, desperate for any information.

"The Moby Dick was spotted about a mile or two out, we believe she is somewhat associated with them because she disappeared from the attacked ship without a trace. Due to that hunch is way we gave her a bounty at all, 5,000,000 seemed an appropriate amount given her age and unknown status."

Dread bloomed in his gut, in the hands of pirates, the girl could be the downfall of the whole government. Looking up from his hands, which he had previously held his face in previously, he took out one of his pens, "Raise the bounty 95,000,000," Sengoku demanded, scribbling on the poster with his pen, "send a fleet after the Whitebeard Pirates, retrieve her at any cost."

After dragging his pen over her previous epithet, Blue Child, he scribbled _Blinking Child_ underneath it and passed it to Captain Moore.

Mila POV

When I landed on the ship, it was completely empty, not a soul remained aboard, not even Dom, who hated going on land. I had to suppress the inkling to go through everyone's thing, I was probably never going to get the same opportunity again. But it was already five and I still had to change clothes, the seaweed pancakes had soaked through my pockets and I had all sorts of slim on me from the sea caves.

I quickly blinked into my room, landing precariously on a stack of books I had left in the middle of my room. I jumped down from the stack and darted over to my dresser, ignoring the giant pink cotton ball Izo had left for me on my bed. Shuffling through my clothes, I decided that another pair of overalls would be inappropriate. I opted for a simple dark purple knee length dress with white designs. The sleeves came down to my elbows. I quickly shed my dirty overalls and yellow shirt and tossed them over into a corner for future me to deal with later. Slipping it over my head, I tugged it over my under wear. Since no one was on board I raced out on to the main deck while still straightening my dress.

From the map Mesi had let me look at, the Ryugu Palace, where the party was taking place, was above the bubble that encased the main island. Looking into the open sky, I squinted as I tried to pinpoint the place's exact location. If I had to guess, I'd gauge that the island was about a mile or so away from the ship. A mile was the limit I could blink at once and if it was anymore, I would be crushed to death by the water pressure and drown. Then again, I didn't know where I would be landing in the palace either, I could as easily land in water there too. The probability of me not drowning was around 28%. Being a pirate, I didn't think those odds were bad at all.

Taking a deep breath, possibly my last one, I mustered all the strength I could and blinked.

I felt solid ground underneath my tiny black flats, which was a good sign. What wasn't such a great thing was the numerous startled fishman guards pointing their swords at me.

My hands shot up in a sign of peace, "Wooo, hey now-"

"Who are you and how did you breach the palace?" a fishman guard shouted at me.

"Well," I started, tilting my head to the side innocently, "I don't think I'm 'breaching' anything. I was invited, I'm just a tad late, like a few hours late."

One lowered his sword cautiously, "Are you a member of the Whitebeard Pirates?"

"Uh huh, Mila of the Whitebeard Pirates, that's me."

The fishmen immediately relaxed and put away their weapons, "I sincerely apologize for the mistake Miss. Pirate, if you'll come with me, I'll escort you to the party."

He swept his arm towards a hallway to out left, a little taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor, I made my towards him, my tiny flats clicking against the stone floor. The hallway the fishman led me down had pillars instead of walls and outside the pillars was water. A variety of different colored fish swam up and down the length of the bubble wall. The only thing keeping the water from flooding in and ultimately killing me was a thin layer of bubble like material. Glancing every so often at the guard escorting me, I wandered toward the bubble wall, running my hand along the sticky surface. My curiosity getting the best of me, I tested the flexibility of the wall. My hand pushed against the wall and it kept going farther into it till my handed popped through it. I gave a tiny shriek as I pulled my arm back through the wall. I expected the water to start flooding in, but the bubble reclosed and I stayed dry and alive.

When we started to near the end of the passage, I decided to ask the guard about the bubble walls. "The palace is usually filled with water" he explained, "but since your crew is made up of mostly humans, we hollowed it out for you."

How considerate I thought. Scenarios ran through my head trying to comprehend how the fishman expanded the bubble, my feet moving on auto pilot as I following the guard. The fishman guard opened a wide door, and allowed me through. I snapped out of my deep thought, jostled by the loud noise coming from the other side of the door. My family sure knew how to party.

Food and drinks were being circulated by mermaids on tiny bubbles in an amphitheater like room my brothers were taking advantage of. Booze and food were disappearing left and right, the booze faster than anything else. A drinking contest of epic proportions was going on between two men of equally epic proportions. Dad and a merman of the same size with a crown poised atop a mass of bright orange hair were in a serious drinking match, each chugging barrel after barrel of alcohol.

"Enjoy yourself," I looked back at the guard, who was backing out of the room, closing the doors behind him.

Acknowledging him with a slight nod and a smile, I moseyed my way into the crowd. A few of my brother shouted drunken greetings as I passed by, I grinned at them. Their drunken happiness was infectious. I spotted a prettily made up Izo and weaved in the opposite direction. He would not be a happy camper tonight. Frist I was late then I didn't wear the dress he had laid out for me. Yeah, it would be best to avoid him tonight.

Zigzagging past Namur and Mesi, who were relaxing on a tiny love seat. Mesi was dressed in a beautiful dress, tiny pearls were stitched in the bottom and around the neck line. She was graceful and gorgeous. She spotted me as I walked past, she smiled and waved kindly at me, leaning into Namur's chest sweetly. I tossed a light wave there way, continuing on me journey to dad.

They were relaxing in two thrones equal in size. I ambled up to them, grinning up at dad, "I'm here!" I announced, in case they happened to not notice my tiny figure below them.

"MILA!" Dad exclaimed raising his arms, sloshing his drink in the process.

"Ohhhh, this is Mila-jamon? A cute little thing." He said thoughtfully, striking his curly orange beard. Suddenly an idea sparked within his crowned head, he slammed his cup down and declared, "She shall marry Fukaboshi. The ultimate power couple. Their children will be beautiful and prosperous-jamon!"

"No, Mila's not allowed to date till she's thirty!" that was news to me, "and your boys aren't good enough for my Mila!"

"My boys are princes'-jamon!"

So this was King Neptune. I bowed to the King of Fishman Island as he argued over my hand in marriage with dad, "It's a pleasure to meet you King Neptune-sama."

"So polite! You would never have guessed she lives with pirates. A perfect princess-jamon!"

I grinned and turned away as dad started the argument once again. I assumed neither of them were serious since they were both so drunk. They're words slurring and cheeks redden. I was only ten, could they really consider me to marry anyway. I'm pretty sure child brides were frowned upon still. And who was this Fukaboshi?

Mid-thought, an arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me aside and out of the crowd. Worst case scenarios ran through my head as I reached for the empty space where my tonfa regularly reside in. To my relief, it was just Marco and his stupid pineapple head.

"What are you trying to accomplish by trying to act all sneaky and kidnapping me mid-party?"

Marco frowned, "Don't over react, we still have a few years before we have to deal with your teenage attitude."

I smirked, "It's a good thing I act older than I am."

Marco frowned deepen, not pleased with my sass tonight, "Whatever Mila, pause your big brain for a second and focus on me," I paused, reluctantly listening to him for once. Pleased, Marco nodded and went on, "Now before you get too excited or go rush and tell everyone, you have to think about this rationally and like an adult." I rolled my eyes in a very un-adult like way, letting my pre-teen show through. Marco sighed, but continued anyways, "Today, in a batch of wanted posters, I found an interesting one." Out of his back pocket, he pulled a well-worn sheet of paper out. It looked like it had been crumpled up and then smoothed out multiple times before. Under the light creases was a picture with green eyes and stormy blue hair. It was me on the poster. Gasping, I snatched the poster away from Marco and took a closer look. Sure enough that was me, a little beat up and bleeding, but that was me. Below my picture, which didn't exactly due me justice, was what really mattered. My bounty. In the same lettering as the giant WANTED header, was the number 100,000,000.

"100,000,000 berri what did I do to deserve that!?" I exclaimed. It was low bounty for a Whitebeard pirate, but it was especially high for a ten year old girl who had done near nothing since becoming a pirate.

"I assumed the navy noticed you after destroying that pirate ship the other day, they were lurking nearby. Why the bounty is so high, I couldn't tell you. But you do understand how serious this is, right Mila? You will be hunted for your bounty now." Marco said, keeping his eyes focused on me while I continued to stare at my poster, "Mila? Are you listening to me?"

"Blinking Child, what kind of epithet is that? I mean really, I'm not going to be a child forever. What's going to happen when I'm forty and I'm still being called a child? Who do I send my complaint to?"

"Mila," Marco hissed, using his mother hen voice, "this is serious. You think Etoile was a big deal, imagine when people start to seek you out and try and kill you. You might not survive the next attack."

I glared up at him, "Don't you think you're making a bigger deal out of this then you should be? I'm learning how to fight and my devil fruit is getting stronger. The next person who attacks me might not survive."

"Mila-"

"No," I held up a hand to stop him, "you know that I really wanted a bounty, and here I get one and you're just raining on my parade. Couldn't you be happy for me?"

Marco tried to protest, "But don't you get it-"

I turned away from him, "Whatever Marco," I tossed my first wanted poster back at him and stomped off. My light mood and suddenly turned dark and grumpy as I weaved my way back into the crowd, hoping Marco wouldn't follow me. He didn't.

For the rest of the party I decided to sulk atop dad's shoulder. He didn't question my presence, he just continued to drink and reminisce with King Neptune. Some of my brothers tried to coax me down, my reply was a cup of punch to their heads. That got rid of them pretty fast.

While I was mindlessly counting dad's tassel thingies on his shoulder, I heard a name that spiked my interest. "Gol D. Roger?"

Neptune shock his head, frowning, "That bastard-jamon."

I looked up at dad with a questioning look on my face, "Neptune and I had a run in with the late pirate king in our younger days." he answered my silent question.

"Oh the days. Back before I was king or your captain was an emperor. Even before Roger was named King of the Pirates-jamon. Oh to be young again." Neptune said wistfully.

Suddenly intrigued by the famed Pirate King, I inquired further, "What happened?"

"Well," Dad started, "it was just after Neptune and I had met."

King Neptune interrupted, "You mean after I saved you-jamon,"

Dad continued on, ignoring Neptune's comment like we sometimes ignore Thatch, "Everyone was exhausted and starving and in need of a good drink, so we sailed to the nearest island. We get there to find none other than the future pirate king drinking with his crew in the only bar on the whole island."

"Damn bastard," Neptune muttered, taking a long sip of his drink, like it would wash away the icky taste of the memory of Roger.

"I had suggested that we continue to sail on to the next island. We had already heard of Roger's fame way back then, and I wasn't in the mood to cross him, but-"

"I would not let my pride be burned by that man by having him steal that bar! I was soon to be crowned king and could not have that blemish on my record-jamon!" Neptune declared, rising his drink in his defense.

"As a product of Neptune's prideful decision and short temper, we ended up in battle and lost."

"Like I said before, that damn bastard."

Dad shook his head at his friend, "In the end, Roger still offered us a drink," Dad finished.

"Where were you?" I asked.

"Somewhere in the middle of the first-half of the grand line-jamon,"

Dad nodded in agreement, "I think it was near some desert kingdom."

"How'd you even end up there?" I questioned.

Neptune laughed, "That's a long story, one that involves me saving Mr. Emperor here."

I shrugged, "I have all night,"

Dad shot a glance at Neptune, grinning he said fondly "It may have started with a few transgender strippers….."

**(A/N)** New chapter! Finally! Wanted poster! Transgender strippers! This chapter is just filled with a bunch of stuff. About the transgender strippers, I was planning on doing a short on it later because I'm too lazy to finish it now. There's a picture of Mila's wanted poster on my deviantart, there's stuff about it on my profile page, so go check it out if you're not too busy reading the variety of fanfiction throughout this website. I'm also sorry about the lack of feedback with comments and such, I'll work on that, or try at least.

LB


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Third POV

Good, safe things to do while visiting Fishman Island: Visit the Mermaid Café, the Candy Factory, the Sea forest, maybe even Gyoncorde Plaza.

Bad, unsafe things to do while visiting Fishman Island: Go to the Fishman District, explore the sea caves, party with the Whitebeard Pirates.

Out of all the good things to do on Fishman Island, Mila had yet to do any. Out of all the bad things to do on Fishman Island, Mila had done two out of three. Exploring the sea caves really wasn't that dangerous to Mila, but it still ranked up on the list. After all, she was pretty sure she had stumbled over a human skull that morning. She had yet to go near the Fishman District, but wouldn't mind checking it out before sailing on. But partying with the Whitebeard Pirates had to be the worst thing to do on the whole island, worse than just jumping straight through the bubble and into the deep sea. When they get going, they never stop.

The party went late into the night, so late, that despite Mila's hardest effort, she fell asleep on Whitebeard's shoulder. The first time she had dozed off, she just flopped onto his neck. Later she was jolted awake by Whitebeard's deep laughter, but dozed off yet again. The next time when Mila fell asleep, she toppled off to the side and slipped straight off his shoulder. Thanks to Whitebeard and his observation haki, he caught her before she splattered on the floor. After that tiny debacle, Mila was ordered off to bed. A tiny kink in their declaration was that no one was willing to take Mila back to the ship. And if someone did, they didn't want to stay on the ship alone with a sleeping child. Not even Izo was willing, he was still salty about her being late and all. And who in their right mind would leave a child alone on a pirate ship surrounded by other pirate ships. So a logical choice, in the eyes of pirates, was to let her sleep in the palace.

"You can sleep in the nursery with the princes or you can have on of the empty rooms in the guest wing on the other side of the palace." Instructed a weird looking ell man with blonde hair. Mila was teetering to the side, eyes half open. She was sitting on Whitebeard's foot after being banned from his shoulder. Now she was trying to listen to the minister of something explain the sleeping situations.

"No!"

"Yes!"

The loud yells of Neptune and Whitebeard shot Mila awake.

"Mila will sleep in the guest wing, not anywhere near those sons of yours!" Whitebeard screamed.

"My sons will be great company for your daughter-jamon! Why should she sleep alone when she can be in my sons' delightful presence?" Neptune countered at Whitebeard, matching his volume.

Mila squinted up at Whitebeard, yawning, "Is this about that Fukaboshi?"

"Yes! You will not be allowed in his vicinity, it's all his evil plan to marry you off!" Whitebeard's voice quaked so much that his foot shook, along with Mila.

"Evil? She would be blessed to marry my son-jamon! She would be a princess!"

"She already is," Whitebeard said, "the princess of the Whitebeard Pirates!" The remaining coherent pirates cheered drunkenly at his declaration.

Ignoring their kindergarten level argument, Mila turned to the weird ell minister, "Mr. Minister, which one is the closest?" she asked.

He nervously glanced at Whitebeard, "The nursery is the nearest," he finally said.

Before either Neptune or Whitebeard could protest or say anything at all, Mila spoke up, "I'll take the nursery then," she shot a look at Whitebeard, "I'm tried and I'm going to sleep in the nearest bed possible, and if it happens to be in the same area of these princes you'll have to learn to deal with it." Neptune shot a victorious look at his friend while he kept his lips sealed at the command of his youngest child.

"There is another option…" the ell fishman looked nervously at King Neptune, as if they had a silent conservation, Neptune seemed to understand the look and nodded. The minister directed his gaze back at Mila, "There is the hard-shell tower. The princess lives there, very well-guarded and almost as close as the nursery." He glanced up at Whitebeard, "Are theses suitable accommodations for Mila?"

"YES!" Whitebeard said, "These are much better, perfect actually!"

Huffing in his seat, Neptune looked like a tiny boy who had their toy taken away or lost a game. In some way he had, Mila would be nowhere near his sons like he had hoped. Mila pushed herself up off Whitebeard's gloating foot and said her sleepy goodnights to her dad and some of her brothers. The ell fishman led Mila down a different hallway from the one the guard had led her through previously. This hallway only resembled the other in the aspect that they both had the bubble walling. This hallway had more ornate pillars with guards lining the side, each looked aware and skeptical of Mila. Mila let her eyes wandered toward them, every single one had their respective coral weapon that looked like it could easily run her through.

Nearing the ending of the hall, Mila spotted a large tower on the edge of the palace limits. A tiny pathway led around it. Mila peered over at the minister, who was about the same height as her, "Why is the princess in such a tower?" she asked, honestly curious why a princess would be in such a gloomy and frightening place.

"It's for her own protection," he said stiffly, not giving her any more information.

Mila crinkled her nose at him behind his back, such a stick in the mud. Coming to a large metal door, one large than most ceilings, they came to a stop. The minister nodded to the guards on either side of the doors, communicating in their secret language of silent gestures. The two muscular fishman simultaneously opened the doors, it squeaking in protest at being opened.

Before completely opening the entrance to the tower, the minister leaned over to Mila. "The princess," he said, "has always been extremely fragile. After the queen's death she became very emotional, whatever you do, please don't upset her."

Mila studied him and tried to focus on what he was saying, but her mind was fuzzy with sleep. The part about death did make it through Mila's haze of fluffy sheep in her mind. "Her mother died?"

The minister nodded, watching the opening between the doors widen, "Two years ago she was assassinated while trying to bring the two races together," he said rigidly, "it was very tragic. It traumatized must of the country, she was beloved by all who met her, no one could have asked for a better queen."

Mila awkwardly stood there, not sure on what to say, she just wished the doors would open faster. Not as nearly as soon as she had wished, the doors opened. The lights were dimmed inside the tower, so only blurry outlines of what seemed to be gigantic furniture could be seen. A figure equal in size of the furniture rustled, its' movements sluggish and slow.

Mila took in a sharp breathe, could they have a giant monster protecting the princess, or is the princess a giant monster. It would explain why they would keep her locked in a tower.

"Princess-sama, we have a guest for you," said the Minister.

Oh no, thought Mila, they were going to offer her up as a sacrifice to monster princess. How could dad think this was a better arrangement then sleeping with a few princes?!

"A guest?" said a soft, sleepy princess. Not something one would expect a giant monster to sound like.

"Yes, she is with the Whitebeard pirates and needs a place to sleep, do you mind if she spends the night here?"

A quick response came almost immediately, "Yes, yes please!" She probably was hungry and wanted to eat Mila.

The minister turned to Mila, "When you go in, you won't be able to come out till morning. We can only open the door for so long."

Mila hesitated, "Umm," she stalled. She kind of didn't want go in the sketchy tower with the mystery monster princess.

"You go in now, or you go back and explain to your captain and my King what happened," The mister said briskly, rather like a douche actually.

Mumbling rude remarks at him under her breathe, Mila inched her way into the tower. Before she was barely through the door they slammed behind her. Awkwardly keeping her back to the door, she crept along the side of the curved wall. Mila could feel the tension between her and the mystery princess, no one dared speak. Mila's foot bashed into something and whatever it was toppled down, making loud crashing noises, which was as equally awkward as the silence.

Out of the quietness came a quiet inquiry, "Hello?"

Crap, Mila thought, "Hi," she replied hesitantly.

A few moments later, light filled the circular room, revealing the princess of Fishman Island to the daughter of the infamous Whitebeard. It was surprise to both of them. The princess was a giant mermaid with a pink tail, lighter pink scales striped down the length of it. Light pink hair framed her baby like face. Two giant unearthly blue orbs were placed evenly in her face. She was still a child, more of a child than Mila at least, but she was more beautiful than any other woman Mila had ever seen. Goddamn, Mila thought, she's stunning.

The princess was almost as equally shocked. She was just shocked at seeing another person up close. A human at that too. She hadn't seen a human since the day her mother died. They were smaller than she remembered. This one particular, she was so tiny and had such blue hair, hair that reminded her of the deep sea she barely got to see anymore. It was very nostalgic. Her eyes were a shade of green she had never encountered before. It wasn't surprising, she hadn't experienced much of anything her whole life, due to being stuck in the tower all alone. And she was a pirate too, a Whitebeard pirate. Her father had told her stories about Whitebeard, he was strong and brave, a force to be reckoned with, and this tiny girl was part of his crew. It was out of her small, confined world.

"Hey," the Mila broke yet another awkward, stretching silence that spanned over the time when they were examining each other.

"Hi," the princess said simply, not sure the proper social precautions one proceeded with in this sort of situation.

"So, I'm Mila and I was kinda wondering if I could sleep here, ya know, tonight?" Mila said, deciding that repeatedly reiterating different variations of the word hello wasn't going to get them far. "It's kind of too late to ask though, because the ell guy already said I was locked in here till morning and there's no way to get out, so yeah." She mumbled half under her breathe.

"Oh, um, it's fine, really fine. You can sleep anywhere, this is a big bed, so there's that or the floor, or one of my pillows. They're really big and you're really small so it'll work." She rambled, very unsure of herself.

"Thanks," Mila inched away from the wall she had been hugging and went to the edge of the bed, "if you don't mind I'll just take this tiny corner over here, you won't even know I'm here."

"I don't mind, not at all. I haven't really talked to anyone for this long in a while so it's nice," she confessed.

Mila gently eased herself onto the corner of the bed she had claimed for herself, "I've only heard you being referred to as princess, what's your actual name?"

"Shirahoshi," She replied.

"That's chill, much more exotic than Mila. It's got this royal ring to it, like you're meant to be a princess," Mila said, just saying the first thing that came to her sleep deprived mind, "Mila is just super plain."

"I-I think it's pretty," Shirahoshi whispered, pulling her pink blanket up to her chin.

Fluffing her little area, Mila smiled, "Well thanks, I'm sort of suck with it, have been for around ten years."

"I'm eight,"

"Very cool," Mila said, smiling to herself at the younger girl's enthusiasm. She was so eager and sweet, Mila couldn't believe she thought there was a monster in here, just a sweet child. She curled up on the mattress, "so you have some brothers, what are they like? My father seems to think they're a bad influence."

"They're very nice," Shirahoshi exclaimed, clearly very close to her brothers, "I have three brothers, Fukaboshi, Ryuboshi, and Manboshi. Ryuboshi, and Manboshi are really funny, they're always really amusing and they make me laugh all the time. Fukaboshi is really smart and nice, he always protects me and loves everybody. They're all so wonderful,"

"Make great husbands," Mila murmurs quietly, more to herself than anything else.

"Did you say something?" Shirahoshi asked.

"Nope, just talking in my sleep," she said lazily.

The princess was confused, "you're awake though,"

"Not for long…" Mila said lightly as sleep grabbed hold of her and she drifted off in the oversized seashell bed of a fish princess.

Mila and Shirahoshi woke the next morning to the creaking sound of the door of the hard shell tower. Mila jerked up, forgetting where she was. That's what happens when people go to sleep, they forget all their problems and worries while sleep takes over their mind. It seems as though when Mila falls asleep, she forgets where she is. It has never happened when she's where she belongs, on board the Moby Dick surrounded by her family.

Light streaked into the tower and blinded Mila momentarily. As Mila's eyes adjusted to the new light, Mila saw Rakuyo standing in the door way. "Good morning Mila, good morning princess-sama."

Mila glanced over at Shirahoshi, she was slowly rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "Hey Rakuyo, what's up?" she asked, pushing herself up from the comfiest seashell she had ever slept on.

"I'm going into town to order some supplies before we ship off, I want to do it while everyone is still preoccupied. Do you need to do any errands while I'm out?" he asked, leaning against the side of the doorway.

Mila considered it, and nodded, "A girl can never have too many books," She hopped down from the bed and started to amble out of the room backwards. "Thanks for letting me sleep here Shirahoshi, it was really nice talking to you. Would it be okay if I stopped by before we leave?" Mila asked, smiling at the younger girl's expression as her face slowly lit up.

"Yes!" she said, nodding vigorously.

"Then it's a deal, I'll see you around!" Mila flipped herself around and stepped through the doorway of the hard shell tower.

"Close the doors!" announced the minister, who had escorted Rakuyo to the tower when he had went in search of his baby sister. The doors shut on the face of the beaming princess.

Still basking in the afterglow of the princess's smile, Mila spun to Rakuyo and smoothed her wrinkled dress. That's what sleeping without changing got her, not that she had any other clothes to change into or that Shirahoshi's would have fit her. "So how are we getting down there? I mean I know how to get down there, but how would you?"

"Well," he smirked, "we have access to the royal gondola, which is going to take us done and back up when we're done,"

"Actually, I was wondering if I could stay on the island for the day?" she asked, seemingly innocent as plans started to form in her mind, "I'll just pop back up here when I'm done if no one's on the ship."

Rakuyo scrutinized Mila, his own mind trying to figure out her, younger, smarter one. "I guess that's fine. Fishman Island is a safe place, no one will bother you unless you go looking for trouble, and I assume you're not."

"Of course, when do I ever?" Mila smirked, not really bothering to hide her devious nature.

Rakuyo started striding away from the tower, Mila in tow. "Just stay away from the fishman district, they tend not to like humans,"

Picking up her pace, Mila easily caught up to Rakuyo, "I will," she hummed

The gondola ride was not exactly what Mila had expected. Nothing these days were what she expected though, but the gondola was really unexpected. First of all, it wasn't actually a boat, but a really long, big fish. Plushy seats lined the inside of gondola, bubble windows lined all the walls. Mila hopped from seat to seat as she tried to peer through every window and see the great view of the island floating below the giant fish boat. Rakuyo leaned against the back of the bench, silently going through a list of supplies he planned on ordering. He would occasionally look up to see if Mila had fallen through the bubble yet. She was leaning so close to the window her face was almost touching it.

When the gondola started to descend into the main bubble of the island, Mila jumped onto the cushion next to Rakuyo, giggling him slightly. "Hey, is it okay for me to just pop down there and met up with you later?"

He nodded, grinning faintly, "Sure, but if you stop by a book store, which I'm sure you will, can you pick up one of the current guides to heart therapy?"

She nodded, "Sure, any particular volume?"

He considered this for a moment, twirling his mustache lazily, "No," he finally decided, "I trust that you'll find the best option. And here," he pulled a tiny drawstring bag out of one of his pockets and handed it to her, "to cover the expenses," he explained with a wink.

Mila greedily took it with a grateful smile and said her goodbyes before she took a small jump to outside the gondola. She landed outside the gondola a few feet above it so Rakuyo could watch her plunge past him as she plummeted to the island. A wild grin broke over her face as she relished in the feeling of the air rushing around her as she fell. Mila twisted herself midair to face the ground. She absently calculated her time before she splattered on the ground. The free feeling of falling was bliss. It was the closest she could get to flying, but it only lasted a brief moment, then she was back on the ground, anchored. With a sorrowful sigh, she regrettably blinked onto the busy street that had been below her moments before.

Brushing of the forlorn feeling of being grounded, Mila trekked on, she had a plan to execute.

Rakuyo causally looked through a window of fishman weaponry, admiring a pair of thin blades while a seemingly random thought flitted through the back of his mind.

"Rakuyo!" a tiny child voice called out to him. He angled his head toward the voice, not bothering to turn his whole body.

"Oh, hey Mila," he said naturally, recognizing his little sister and her trade mark blue head, "done so soon?"

She bounded over to him, nodding, "Yep, I got everything I need plus the books you wanted," she stated, jostling the oversize pile of books in her arms, "your books are on top."

"Thank you," he told her, gently removing the first few books off the top of her load. He wrinkled his eyebrows upon brushing something unnaturally bumpy. Skeptical, he examined the book that was left on top Mila's pile. "_Nolan the Liar_? In brail? Why in the world would you need this?" asked Rakuyo, clearly confused, "I didn't even know you could read brail."

"Oh, well," Mila stated to stutter, "um, I like the feel of the dots?"

"So you can't even read it?"

"I can."

"Wouldn't you want something, I don't know, more stimulating?"

"No." she answered simply.

"Mila, is something going on-"

"Nope, nope nope nope, everythings super! So I'll see you later, right?" without waiting for a reply, she kept rambling, "cool, have fun with those books."

She darted off into the street, her head blending in with the multicolored scales of the native inhabitants of the island. That girl will forever continue to befuddle him. Shaking his head, he looked to see what she had bought him. Instead medical guides for heart therapy, there were titles like _Therapy for the Broken Hearted_. Shaking his head even harder he realized he should have written it down for her. For a child genius, she had the memory of a fly for anything not written down.


	22. Chapter 21

**(A/N) **BEWARE this is an extremely short chapter, I haven't written a chapter this short since like, chapter four. I do have some good news. So Blinking Child is one giant file on my computer and for each chapter I put it into a different file than I upload it. The original file has reached 110 pages and 48410 words! On here it has 41 reviews, 57 favorites, and 80 followers, along with 9836 views. So close to ten thousand! I'm hoping to reach ten thousand with the next chapter or so, will I ever reach 100 followers?

Chapter 21

Mila POV

Skipping down the dark, dank passage way of the morbidly disturbing sea caves, I scarcely avoided tripping over a set of human bones. Not missing a single beat, I readjusted the stack of books in my arms, balancing them unsteadily on top of each other. I hopped that Killian was still waiting for me, I never specified when I would be back, only that I would. So I technically wasn't late, but I felt like I was keeping him waiting. Killian didn't seem like the kind of guy whose goes out a lot, I wasn't quite sure where he would go if he did ever leave.

To not delay my arrival any further, I looked for the same hole I had tumbled through early yesterday, the one that had ruined my trusty overalls. I weaved my way through the twisting passage ways and dark trails. The rocks and bumps I had memorized yesterday were still fresh in my mind, fresh enough that I avoided any more unfortunate slips, like the one that led me to Killian's hovel. Sure enough, I found the same slippery tracks I made yesterday from falling down the hole. Making the wise decision, I blinked down into the hole instead of sliding down. This would save my outfit at least.

Down in the pit Killian called home, he was relaxing on the same soft bed of moss we had laid on together yesterday. He was looking extremely serene, as serene as someone with no eyes could look. Such a smooth face, devoid of any wrinkles or imperfections. A face that had probably not seen the light of day for a long time.

"Hi Killian, I'm back," I said, adding a cheerful note to my voice.

Killian lurched up at the startling sound of my voice in the silent caves in which he resided in. "you're ba-ack,"

"I said I would, didn't I?" I set my new books on the cleanest looking rock in Killian's little alcove, "I brought some stuff too,"

"Stu-stuff?"

"Yup," I grabbed one of the many books in my pile, one intended for babies, "they're books. To learn with and such. They should improve your vocabulary and knowledge. The basic stuff at least." I flipped the book open, "I read six books this morning on teaching techniques. They're more interesting than you would think. So I think I can teach you the basics, I mean it's not like I'm performing heart surgery." To be frank, I would probably be more comfortable performing heart surgery than teaching anyone anything. I knew a lot of things, but communicating what I knew in my mind to someone else verbally was one of my greatest insecurities. I had tried to explain things to Miss. Lynn back on Salus, but she would yell at me and accuse me of playing mind tricks on her. I avoided revealing any of my sacred information to anyone in fear that they would have the same reaction. A few teaching books weren't going to instantly change that, but it might be a start.

"Can y-you tell me a-about colors?" Killian asked in a quiet voice, seeming unsure of himself.

"Colors? Why would you want to learn about colors, you can't see?" I said. I did want to be too harsh, but it was the truth.

He nervously wringed his hands in her lap, "I remember I he-heard about c-colors."

"From who?" it honestly didn't seem like Kilian got out much.

"Do-on't know," his nervous hand wringing quickened. The skin around his eyeless hollow pinched, as if he was concentrating hard.

He looked as if he was panicking over the lack of information. I panicked as if he was a baby about to cry, I quickly tried to come up some would with would ease his uneasiness, "Colors, umm how to describe colors," I was trying to grasp the right words to define colors, how do you describe something that can only be seen, not felt or smelled. I nervously twisted a lock of my hair as I thought this through. I gazed at my hair, having an epiphany, "My hair, its blue."

"Blue?"

"Yeah, it's the color of the sky and the sea, but my hair is a little stormier than that,"

"Is st-stormier a col-or?"

"Oh no, no it's when a storm changes the weather and blocks out the sun. That makes it a little darker and gives it a bit of a green tint." I said.

"The s-sun is a color?"

I tugged on the strand of hair, pulling it taunt then watching it spring back up into its natural wave, "Hmm, that's a hard question to answer, but really this whole conversation is difficult when you think about it."

"You do-on't have to…"

"No, I like a challenge. The sun changes depending on the time of day. Early in the morning it might be a little pink, but at high noon it's such a bright yellow if seems white. In the evening it is the most beautiful. As the sun goes down for the day, it paints the sky red and orange and purple and pink, it a gorgeous piece of art with the bright sun as the center piece. When it disappears completely, the colors still linger behind, as if saying goodbye before the dark blue of the night takes over."

It was hard to read Killian's expression without the telltale signs eyebrows and eyes give. But from his slightly ajar mouth I could easily tell he was shocked. He closed his mouth, only to open it again. The way he kept repeating the same motion made him resemble a fish, more so than he already did at least. I grinned, "Pretty cool right?" I said, hoping to project my smile through my voice. "Maybe we should start with something simpler though, like letters or numbers. Colors are kind of hard to comprehend sometimes,"

The corners of his mouth twerked down, "But co-colors…"

"We'll come back to that later, I promise," Killian relaxed at my words, "Now, what do you know about the alphabet?"

In the middle of my stimulating lecture on the mechanics of words and the specific of each letter pronunciation, my stomach took it upon itself to make a grotesque grumbling noise. For a moment I was grateful for his lack of eyes because for some unknown reason, I was blushing fiercely.

The fins on the side of Killian's head twitched at the bodily noise, my blush reddened, "Food?" Killian asked innocently.

"I'm just a bit hungry, I skipped breakfast this morning. Breakfast is the first meal of the day," I said. I decided to start explaining simple things, like breakfast, to Killian. It was easier than him asking what everything was. I hoped that one day I wouldn't have to describe everything.

"I can g-get food," Killian supplied, trying to be helpful, it was rather cute of him.

"Really? That would be great actually, if it's not too much trouble," I said, grinning sheepishly.

Killian pushed himself up from his spot on the squishy moss and wandered into the dark half of the cave. I decided to stay in the illuminated half of the cave, the dark didn't scare me. What scared me was not knowing what was in the dark. "I go," he held up a webbed hand, "Wait."

I started to nod, but then realized that that was redundant, "Ok,"

He disappeared into the darkness at the end of the cave and went down an unknown passage way. I picked up one of the children books written in brail, absently running my finger over the title. I was planning on leaving the books here with Killian once I left. I intended to teach him the basics, but I wanted him to continue to further his education. It seemed like Killian wasn't scheduling his departure from his dank sea cave anytime soon and I didn't want to leave him completely illiterate. For some reason I had formed a strange attachment to the fishman child. He seemed defenseless and innocent, completely ignorant to the horrors of the world around him, he probably didn't know of the hardships and tension between his race and mine. It was something I had never experienced, I've always known all the darkness of the world. I guess I just wanted, no needed, for Killian to keep his innocence. For it is true, innocence is bliss.

Killian wandered back into the cave a while later, food in hand. A lot of food actually. His twig arms were filled with an assortment of packaged foods. "Wow, that's quite a haul you got there,"

In the place of saying anything, Killian just shrugged his shoulders and jostled the food in his arms.

Killian set his load gently on a flattish rock. He placed everything on the makeshift table with great concentration, lining everything up in individual rows based on size. He used his hands to maneuver the items around each other.

I inched closer to the rock to get a better look at my options for sustenance. The wrappers were decorated with colorful, spiraling letter announcing the type of artificial delicacy it encased. It picked one with a giant pink bun inside a bright blue wrapper. I flipped it over and scanned the nutritional facts and the ingredients before I tore it open. I will read anything.

Taking a greedy bite of the pink pastry, I watched as Killian carefully tore into his own wrapped pastry. Once his sprinkle covered yummy was deprived of its wrapper, he placed said wrapper back in the same place where he had picked it up from, completing the pattern he had made moments ago.

"So Killian, where did you get all this food? Do you have a secret pantry back there I don't know about. A pantry is a place where people keep food,"

"No pan-pantry. There is a place ab-above with lots of food. I get it from there," he said as he tore a tiny piece of his pastry off and ate it.

"So a store, it's like a place where people go to buy food and stuff. Did you pay for anything?"

"Pay?"

"It's when you exchange or give money to the person in the store in return for food or another item," I explain.

"No, I not pay for the food,"

I fidgeted with my wrapper. So Killian had stolen the food, it wasn't that big of a deal, I was a pirate after all, a complete outlaw. It still bothered me for some reason though. It nagged on the good part of my brain, the part that believed that not all marines are bad and not all pirates are good. "Killian, that's stealing. Stealing is when you take something that's not yours or you don't pay for it. It's illegal. Illegal means it's against the law and you can be arrested and put in jail, people will try and catch you because of it," An unimportant memory nudged the back of my brain. Mr. Warlord had mention a thief in passing, could it possibly that his thief was my Killian. Wait, did I just refer to Killian as 'my' Killian? Okay, that can't happen again.

"No one c-catch me. I am fast," he tried to assure me. I frowned, eventually the law will catch up to him, as it will with me also.

"You have to stop Killian, it's not safe. I'll buy you food so you don't have to steal, I don't want you getting in trouble,"

He nodded, his shaggy white hair bobbed in front of his face, revealing his eyeless craters.


	23. Chapter 22

**(A/N) **Another shorter than usual chapter sadly. I was trying to get it out before I left for spring break, which I succeeded in. nothing too exciting goes on in this chapter, but it does lead in to a kick ass battle. Enjoy!

LB

Chapter 22

Third POV

"Now let's try again," Mila placed a single stone into Killian's out stretched hand.

"One," he said hesitantly.

"That's correct," Mila pulled two more stones from the pile she had gathered earlier, she placed them in his hand along with the already existing one.

He took a minute to access the copious amount of information he had just absorbed from Mila's brief introductory lesson on numbers. The crinkle between his nonexistent eyes tighten, "Two?"

Mila didn't let her voice falter as she corrected him, "No, three, but close," she took back the two stones she had just given him, "One," she placed only one into his hand this time, "two," she gave him the final stone, "three." Killian nodded enthusiastically. "Great! Now let's try it again." Mila took all her stones back and place two back, "Now, how many do you have now?"

"Two," he said with more confidence.

"Yes!" Mila gave a tiny round of applause, all the books said encouragement was a great motivation. "Are you ready to try some more-"before Mila could entirely finish her thought, the earth around them shuddered violently. Tiny pebble were shaken from the ceiling of the cave and pelted their heads. Mila braced her left hand against the ground, "What was that?!"

"We ver-ry deep. I never hear any-anything." Killian had discarded the practice pebbles to brace himself also, only he could use both of his hands.

"It would have to be something big…" Mila mused. The first thing that came to her mind was Whitebeard's devil fruit. He only ever used his earth destroying power in the direst situations. Concern rippled up her spin. "Killian wait here, I'm going to check it out,"

"Mila-"before Killian could protest, he felt her presence disappear. Alarm rang within him, he had a deep seeded feeling that something was going to happen, something wrong.

Mila appeared topside to be welcomed with absolute chaos. The citizens of Fishman Island were rushing around in a panic, a building in the distance was on fire. The tremor hadn't come from Whitebeard, he was nowhere in sight actually. The tremor had come from a marine battle ship breaching the bubble walls of the island. They were firing canons at the civilian dwellings. What in the grand line is going on? Mila looked around to see if she could spot any of her crew. At the moment, everyone was in such a panic that she couldn't tell who was who. She needed to find someone, the marines had to be here to for them. Mila blinked onto the Moby Dick, someone was bound to be there. Sure enough people were bustling on deck, everyone was in a flurry. The crowd seemed thin though, especially for the Moby Dick, people must still be at the palace enjoying the party that never seemed to end. She then blinked into Whitebeard's office, someone was bound to be there. Sure enough there were a meeting between some of the commanders there.

They noticed her sudden arrival and halted their discussion. "Mila," Fossa said solemnly.

The commander's faces were all somber masks, clearly aware of the situation. "What's going on out there?"

"Marines," Rakuyo said, "according to sources above the sea, there's more coming. No sightings of any of the admirals, but they're coming in hard."

"They don't seem to care whether they killing pirates or civilians either," Izo commented with distaste.

"Where's dad or Marco, why is no one attacking them?" Mila asked.

Speed Jiro stepped forward, "We called the palace, King Neptune is organizing his army and Pops and Marco are sobering everyone up. They should be here in less than an hour."

"What are we supposed to do till then?" She questioned.

"We're waiting for word from pops till we decide on a plan of action,"

"We can't just wait here! Imagine what kind of damage they could do in an hour? And we, the protectors of the island are just going to let them?"

Jozu, who had remained quiet for their discussion, regarded Mila's passionate outburst gravely. "If you feel that strongly, you should change and go get your tonfa. It's time to prepare for battle."

A numbed silence floated throughout the room, the grim realization sinking in. Breaking the daze, Mila nodded and blinked out of the room, leaving the commanders alone.

"Izo," Jozu turned to him, "Mila is going to be under your care during the battle. I know she is a lot to handle and watch and she has the will of a grown man, but I'm putting you in charge." Before Izo could even muster a word, Jozu continued, "I am the highest ranking commander on the ship at the moment, I will direct the counter attack against the marines until either Pops or Marco returns. No one will object." It wasn't a question.

Every commander in the room nodded solemnly. This is what battle did to the crew aboard the Moby Dick. It turned playful, sometimes stupid, man children into fierce warriors of the sea, crew members of the strongest man alive.

Mila POV

I landed on my bed, it bounced underneath my weight. Pausing, I let what had just happen sink in. Jozu was really going to let me go into battle, a real battle. Not a one sided annihilation or a sneaky bombing, it was a fair battle. I really couldn't tell if her churning stomach was nerves, or excitement, or fear. All the emotions were melding into one giant ball in the pit of my stomach, tugging at my thoughts. My thoughts were so wrapped up in each other that I just had to sit and think. Trying to untangle each one from the other. I twisted my dress in my hands. One of my many thoughts telling me that I really need to wash it. Another thought directed me on different methods of washing and folding. Probably from a random book I had read. I should probably share that tidbit of knowledge with Izo, he would be interested in that.

Violently shaking my head, I unclenched my hands from my dress and got off my bed. Pushing my thoughts in the way back of my head, the place where I put the files the government gave me. The ones that were too dark for me to even fathom. I flung my dress off, and grabbed a pair of darker overalls and slipped them on. My tonfa, which where resting on my book shelf were now securely fastened in the back of my overalls. Next to where my tonfa had previously resided was my brace. I hadn't worn it since landing on Fishman Island, but now my arm ached. Bending it hurt more than it should and lifting it took too much energy.

I saw the brace as a weakness, and admitting to use it felt like a blow to the gut. But I slid the brace onto my right arm anyway, twisting the gears as I went. Each bolt and gear clicked as I secured it tightly around my wounded arm. The constant ache of my muscles quieted for now. I knew it would come back with a vengeance after the battle.

A purposeful knock broke the silence which had entombed my room. Before waiting for an answer, the visitor let themselves right on in.

"Mila," Izo said, "Jozu assigned me to watch over you during the battle, so I just want to go over a few things." Izo walked over to me, where I was trying to lock the upper gears on my brace. He moved my hands away with a slight nudge and took over. "First, you are not to leave my sight. I know you have that dandy little devil fruit, but that's not an excuse to disappear on me." My gears started to snap together as he went on, "Second, no taking on any marine above the rank of Commander. And I know you know who's who with all those files in your head, and don't think I don't know either." He stepped away from my brace after he had finished locking it on my arm, "And finally, under no circumstances do you approach an admiral. You run." He looked deep into my eyes, his gaze serious. "I only battled an admiral once, and barley escaped with my life."

I've seen Izo serious many times before. The time she told me not to read by the cannons or not to ruffle my clothing while fighting, but his eyes held something I've never seen before. Fear. Pure fear. From my experience, pirates weren't sacred, fear didn't faze them. But now, looking into Izo's eyes, I knew how daunting the admirals were.

Nodding, I reached behind and grabbed my tonfa, putting one in each hand in a battle ready position, then said "I understand."

Third POV

On the main deck of the Moby Dick every Whitebeard pirate aboard the ship had gathered. In front of the masses stood Jozu, who was stationed at the base of Whitebeard's empty chair.

"Men!" Jozu announced, "We will be initiating the counter attack against the Marines on slaughter against Fishman Island. For now, what's remaining of division one, two, and three will be positioned at the front entrance. The goal is stop the entry of more marines. Divisions four through six will provide backup. The rest of the divisions will protect the citizens from the marines who have already entered and are attacking the city." Jozu hardened his fist using his devil fruit power and raised it high above his head. This single motion broke about a fierce battle cry from the pirates. "Now go! Protect our captain's territory!" This signaled the beginning of the fiercest battle to take place for the next ten years.


	24. Chapter 23

**(A/N)** So today's my birthday, and to celebrate the big 16, I decided to give you all a nice bloody chapter!

LB

Chapter 23

Third POV

Izo and Mila were stationed on the crest of Coral Hill, amidst the intense heat of the battle. They had trekked up from the docks, slaying a few marines here and there on their way up. Of course it would have been easier for Mila to blink there and Izo follow behind. He would have traveled faster if he hadn't had to check on her every two minutes. Which she didn't need his constant attention, Mila was doing just fine by herself. But no, Izo took the whole 'don't leave my sight' thing very literally.

Mila would be lying though if she said that running through a burning town with battles roaring left and right was boring.

What was even more exhilarating was fighting side by side with Izo. Mila had never personally seen him in battle, but like any commander, Izo was a god on the battle field. His twin pistols firing left and right, each bullet hitting an enemy target every time. Mila marveled on how Izo managed not to hit a single alley with the way he shoot.

When an enemy of a higher than approved rank approached Mila, Izo seemed to sense it. And in no time, a bullet would be embedded in his chest. That made everything very boring for her.

When Mila did have the chance to fight, she used all her strength. Most of the marines who charged her were of lower rank and of little self-worth. They assumed that a small girl child would be an easier target then the sixteenth commander of the Whitebeard pirates. They soon found that they were mistaken. Mila successfully blocked each swing of their swords and deftly jabbed and struck them with the all the skill she could muster from her recent training. Throughout her rampage, a steady ache of pain inched its way back through her arm, the brace doing little for it.

When an enemy of a higher than approved rank approached Mila, Izo seemed to sense it. And in no time, a bullet would be embedded in his chest, a delightful splatter of blood would soon follow.

Mila's next opponents was a lieutenant, lieutenant Palt, he would be an easy enough target. Mila had yet to take on a commander though, but a lieutenant would occupy her time for now. He had enlisted before Mila had reached the age of four. A well-seasoned marine who had braved the horrors of the battle field more than once before.

Mila took a beginning stance, a stance resembling one a boxer might take while sizing up their opponent. Lieutenant Palt recognized the fight stance and matched her with his own, only instead of holding tonfa, he held a barbed whip. A twinge of fear shot through Mila at the sight of the gleaming spiked, the metal was an all too familiar one. Sea prism stone. Palt was poised to fight a devil fruit eater, one like Marco or Juzo, or Mila.

Taking this significant nugget of information and storing it securely in her thoughts, she tightened her grip.

Palt made the first move. He swung his whip wide, making a giant arc before bringing his whip down at Mila's feet. He was aiming to disable her, Mila realized. Marines always went for the kill when it came to pirates. Did her age suddenly change her lawless life style? Anger whipped through Mila, she was not one for discrimination. As Palt's whip came down a second time, Mila blinked to evade his strike. She appeared slightly above and behind his head. She planned on striking the back if his head with her butt of her left tonfa, letting gravity do all the grunt work. Before Mila could execute the stunning maneuver, Palt whipped around, as if he sensed her. His whip wrapped itself around her left tonfa and part of her arm, and with one swift jerk of his arm, Mila was hammered into the earth. She had to roll to avoid landing in her bad arm.

Pain echoed throughout her body. Numbly she wondered where Izo was, he would usually come and save her at this point. Off in the distance, she could hear his pistols over the constant ringing in her ears. She used both hands to push herself up, because at that moment, both appendages were border line useless. Her left arm had blood dripping down, leaking into the stones of the street from the wounds the spiked whip had inflicted. Her right arm just felt like a wet noodle.

When upright, sort of, she was still half laying on the ground, she saw Lieutenant Palt approaching. His whip at the ready. Her first thought was to blink away somewhere, and she was about to when a pompadour wielding commander blocked her view of Palt.

Mila relaxed and gave up on standing up. She could just watch the show from there.

"Now, now, who's giving my little Chicky trouble?" Thatch said in a mocking tone, Mila could almost see his mocking smirk and raised eyebrow.

Not waiting for an answer, Thatch launched himself on Palt. Palt tried to give Thatch a good fight, but fell short on the strength and talent it would take to match Thatch on any battlefield.

Palt tried to deflect one of Thatch's sword with his whip, and succeeded, but then his other sword came roaring in on him. It landed deeply in his side, the flesh making a wonderfully grotesque sound. Mila grinned. Thatch yanked his sword out of the marine and wiped the bloody weapon on his white pants.

Palt stumbled, his grip on his whip was loose as he pressed his other hand against the wound. That did nothing to stop the steady flow of blood seeping out his side. Refusing to give up without a fight, Palt attempted to raise his whip for another attack. He failed. The major blood lose hit him hard as he slumped to the ground.

Satisfied, Thatch sheathed his swords on his back and turned around to face Mila. Pleased with his bloody victory, she was still grinning up at him. "What a nice brother you are," she commented from her place on the ground.

He tossed his head to the as if he's flipping his hair, but his pompadour only wobbled ungracefully, "Oh you know me, I'm just a regular knight in shining armor," he bent down to Mila, pulling her up by her armpits till she was upright on her own two feet. "So where's your babysitter Chicky?"

Dismissing the comment with a wave of her bloody hand Mila said, "Probably shooting some big bad marine."

Thatch looked around curiously, "I don't see the old bat... Wonder why he wandered so far." He shrugged, equally unaffected by the lack Izo as Mila. "Maybe Marco'll find him," Thatch frowned at his little sister, "you better hop he doesn't find you though."

Mila batted her eyelashes, feigning innocence, "Why ever would he want to find me?"

He twisted his mouth into a deeper frown, "He's in a downright awful mood, angrily muttering your name and something about a bounty." He raised an eyebrow, "you wouldn't know anything about that would you?"

Before she had time to come up with a clever excuse or comeback, a voice boomed across the island. "Citizens of Fishman Island and members if the Whitebeard Pirates," the voice announced, "the World Government is demanding that you turn over the Blinking Child, otherwise known as Mila."

A wave of shock washed over Mila as she listened to the disembodied voice. Next to her, Thatch swore.

"If you do not concede to these demands, drastic measures will be taken to ensure the capture of the Blinking Child with the help of the marines."

"This isn't drastic enough?" Thatch grumbled.

"You have an hour to follow our demands. That is all." At the end was the familiar click of a transponder snail.

A beat of silence encased the whole island after the announcement, it was broken by Thatch, "Well, damn Chicky, you're in some serious shit."

Mila ran her left hand through her hair, leaving a few red streaks from her blood. "Marco is literally going to kill me."

"Not figuratively?" Thatch mumbled.

Mila had her hand poised to whap Thatch on the arm, but a giant shadow interrupted her bout of violence. "Oh shit shit shit shit shit."

Descending from the sky in a fiery blue form was none other than Marco the Phoenix, in the clutches of his claws was a dangling Izo. Marco, in full phoenix form, gently let Izo down as he landed, his feathers were literally ruffled.

"Mila! Watch your language, those are not words that should be spoken by a ten year old!" Izo said, hands on his hips.

Mila nodded absently, not entirely listening to Izo. She was more focused on Marco, who had yet to transform back into his human form. His constant readjustment of his wings made her more nervous than his usual sleepy stare. He was a very creepy bird.

Izo watched Mila watch Marco who was watching Mila. A circle of stares. "What's up with Marco?" Mila whispered, leaning closer to Izo, as if being a bird impaired Marco's hearing.

Izo scowled at her, "His emotions got the best of him when he heard that little announcement. He got flustered and angry and started yelling things like 'I warned her' and 'I'm gonna drown her', then poof, he's a phoenix. He has been stuck that way ever since." He flicked a piece of hair over his shoulder as he continued, "At first I was confused, what could he possibly be talking about? But as he transformed, this little flyer flew out of his pocket." Izo then precede to produce the said piece of paper. And there it was. Mila's wanted poster, 100,000,000 reward and all. At the sight of it Mila grimaced. She was in such deep shit. "Yup, this explained everything."

Thatch lunged forward, grabbing the poster, "Holy shit on a cracker. Chicky, this is a shit ton for your first bounty, how in the Grand Line did you swing this?"

At that comment, Marco started squawking furiously, and if he wasn't a bird at the moment he would probably be screaming his head off at them. Stomping his talons in the ground, his squawking increased, his little outburst left everyone stunned. Even the remaining marines, who had halted their attack, were dumbfounded by his fit.

Mila hushed him, waving her hands, or trying to wave them but both were injured. Apparently the sight of her blood didn't clam him anymore. He became even more flustered. His fire feathers were straight up and his eyes wide. "Marco, clam down," Mila said, trying to keep a clam, sedated tone.

Marco wasn't taking it, he reared up on his talons and kept squawking. Izo sighed, so very done with Marco's temper tantrum, Izo took out one of his pistols and shot Marco straight in the middle of his birdy forehead. Everyone stopped, the only things that moved was the steam from Izo's pistol and the fire on Marco's forehead, which was regenerating the hole.

The silence was once again broken by the one and only Thatch, "Fuck Izo, that's cold."

Then Marco changed back. He was a phoenix one moment then a regular human the next, well as regular as a devil fruit eater can be. "Thank You Izo, I think I needed that."

Izo nodded, accepting his thanks. Mila wasn't entirely convinced, "You needed a bullet in the forehead?"

Marco scowled, "You," he pointed a long finger at her, "don't get to talk to me yet, I'm still pissed. But yes, sometime I do need a bullet in the forehead."

Thatch clamped his hand on Mila's shoulder, "Congrats Chicky, it takes a certain amount of moxy to piss Marco off that bad." Mila sagged under his hand, she wasn't exactly proud of that kind of moxy.

"Shut up Thatch," Marco mumbled, "Mila needs to go to Pops now, he's at the ship. We'll figure what to do with her then." It hurt Mila that he wouldn't directly address her, she really had screwed up.

**(A/N)** There's a funny story behind Lieutenant Palt, not too funny, but it's a story nether less. So I was in a condo over spring break and the best place for Wi-Fi in the whole condo was in the kitchen or at the front door. Instead of camping out in front of the front door, where there was no outlet might I add, I hopped up on a counter and started typing in the kitchen. Mind you, I typed the majority of this chapter on my phone, it's hard to bring a laptop to an island. But anyways, I get to the part where Mila encounters Palt, but at the moment Palt is nameless. I look around for something to spark some inspiration, and over by the stove are pepper and salt shakers. At first I thought that pepper or salt were stupid names, but then I combined them… and BOOM that's how I got Palt. Sorry for wasting your precious time with the pointless anecdote, continue on.

LB


	25. Chapter 24

**(A/N)** Has it really been more than a month since I posted another chapter? Wow, I just disappointed myself. Due to the extended (and purely accidental) break, I attempted to write a longer chapter, but I feel like the first half is kind of redundant. So what's more important, word count or contents? Now when you're writing a five paragraph essay, I say word count. But when it comes to fanfic, it's usually content. My usual expectations were a bit blurred this time around, but in the future I will keep to my beliefs! (or at least I'll try)

LB

Chapter 24

Third POV

In times like these, Mila savored her devil fruit. What would have ended up being a painfully long and awkwardly silent trek to the ship to meet Whitebeard, was shortened with a quick blink to the ship while Marco flew Izo and Thatch ran. Marco could have easily carried both Thatch and Izo, but Thatch thought he could outrace both Mila and Marco. He may or may not have been still buzzed from the party, which happened to be cut short by the Marine's arrival.

Mila naturally reached the ship before both Marco and Thatch. She appeared atop the mast, balancing on her toes to avoid falling into the calming frenzy buzzing below her. The constant hum of activity that the ship was lacking earlier was made up with the hectic state of the deck now. Her crew brothers were hurriedly rushing from place to place, every so often someone would dive from the ship and head to the island for battle or someone would leap onto the ship, giving reports on the raging war taking place on the island. No one stayed still for long. The comforting chaos of home.

Mila let her legs hang over the edge of the mast as Marco's shadow descended upon her. The people on the desk cleared a landing strip for Marco and Izo. The nice sense of clam that had blanketed Mila was dispelled as easily as it had wrapped around her. The moxy that Thatch had dubbed upon her was nowhere in sight. Mila pushed herself off of the mast and fell to the deck, blinking to the deck before she could make impact. She fell into step besides Marco as he transformed into his human form. Izo not lagging far behind. Crew brothers pelted Marco and Izo for instructions or reports, but the two stayed solemnly quiet, their steely gazes locked on the path in front of them. A super freaky and scary duo.

Crew brothers shot Mila a questioning look. Mila could just shrug her shoulders. She didn't actually know what they were questioning, could they be wondering why even Marco looked like he had a stick up his ass or could they be questioning why the Marines wanted her so badly. The only thing she could do was shrug. What else could she possibly say or do otherwise.

Most doors on the Moby Dick were tall, better to accommodate their huge captain, but the door to his office and personal quarters were straight daunting. A perfect size to make a small girl feel even smaller.

Using his sturdy arms, Marco heaved it open. Mila had never once opened those daunting doors manually, always opting for the quick blink inside, and to be honest, she probably couldn't open them if she tried. Whitebeard sat in his custom made chair from some far away island in the New World, tailored to fit his giant stature and support his ailing back. It was a gift from some of the commanders' years back. All his medical equipment was stationed in there, it rarely went onto the deck and saw the sun, only on his bad days. Thankfully they were few. Right then, Whitebeard's nasal cannula was placed in his nose, providing oxygen from colossal tanks next to his chair. IV stands stood off in the shadows along with multiple machines and sensors. Familiar objects in the familiar room. Mila enjoyed spending time in there with Whitebeard, just them talking one on one, but there was one invading factor today. Knight of the Sea, Jinbe, the warlord.

He was discussing something fervently with Whitebeard when they entered. Mila shrunk back at the sight of him on the ship, her ship. Jinbe also noticed her, scrunching his yellow eyebrows as he scrutinized her. He looked as if he was trying to decide what he wanted to do to her.

"Ah, the brats have arrived," Whitebeard said, pulling away from his conversation with Jinbe.

"Onii-san, what is he doing here?" Mila whispered as she hugged closer to Izo, he seemed the safer option between him and Marco. Even after buttering Izo up by using onii-san, all he did to acknowledge her was allowing her to hide in his kimono by pulling her closer.

Marco stepped forward, "So Jinbe, I assume you are here clandestinely, considering your connection to the marines and all." Marco's said, leaving a slight threatening air in the room.

"To the government, I am not even on the island." Jinbe said solemnly.

"Jinbe is here while we deal with this marine situation." Whitebeard said, his voice had the opposite air of the grave and menacing air of the room. "Speaking of which, Mila," Mila peaked out from behind Izo, "congratulations on the bounty, the first one is always the most memorable." Whitebeard smiled like a proud father, and for all intents and purposes, he was.

"So," Mila began, afraid he would have the same reaction as Marco "you're not mad?"

"And why would I be child?" Whitebeard said, sounding slightly amused, "I didn't get my first bounty till I was almost twice your age, these is an impressive feat and I'm glad to have someone like you in my family."

"Oh," Mila let her shoulders fall, she had expected something . . . more, like a bang, but all she got was a whimper. Not that she was complaining, she didn't want to get yelled at yet again today.

"Pops, really? You don't see anything wrong with this situation at all?" Marco probed.

"Nothing dangerous or suspicious?" Izo supplied. Whitebeard stared blankly, unaware to the problem, Izo frowned and continued for Whitebeard's sake, "So you're not concerned about bounty hunters or rivaling crews, or, I don't know, the government?"

"Why would that even matter, who in their right minds would trifle with us?"

Marco frowned, "Edward Newgate, are you still drunk?"

Jinbe stepped forward to interject, "He's better than he was an hour ago."

Running a hand through his yellow tuft, Marco grimaced, "Pops, you need to focus. There is a slight problem outside having to do with the Marines and their demands for your daughter." He shrugged, "Any suggestions on the course of action?"

"We deny them, of course."

"It's never that simple," Marco sighed, "if it was you'd already be King of the Pirates."

Whitebeard dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand, "That's not important. Mila what do you think?" He asked, turning towards her, who was still concealed partly by Izo.

"Me?"

He nodded, "You have a bounty now, I think that means you have a say now too,"

Marco groaned and turned away, "I can't even listen to this," He was two steps away from slamming the door off the hinges when he collided with a sweaty Thatch.

Heaving, Thatch short of tackled Marco while trying to get though the door. After taking a great swan dive and entangling Marco in his sweaty clutches, Thatch's pompadour head popped up, "What'd I miss?"

Whitebeard gave a low, mild chuckle, "We just started brat,"

Grunting unintelligently from the floor, Marco forcefully nudged Thatch halfway across the room. "Oh yeah, we just started going nowhere," Marco replied, his voice poisoned with sarcasm.

Thatch's eyes flickered from Marco's steely stare to Whitebeard's relaxed smile, "So I did miss something?"

He was ignored. "Could we focus?" Izo butted in, "Back to the real problem, the Marines?"

"We already resolved this, we're denying them,"

"THAT'S NOT A SOLUTION!" Marco cried, remaining on the floor.

Thatch stepped forward, "Now isn't the real question why they want the little chicky so badly in the first place?"

All eyes swiveled to Mila, who had taken her place out from behind Izo. Mila jumped under their gazes, "What? I know as much as you guys!"

"Actually," Jinbe stroked his goatee thoughtfully, "you know more than any of us combined. I have a feeling that's exactly why they want you."

"My devil fruit?"

Jinbe nodded, "I believe you're probably one of very few that knows everything."

Towards Mila, Izo said, "What exactly is everything?" he treaded carefully, knowing the government was a sensitive topic.

Mila's eyes wandered up in the direction of the ceiling, deep in thought, accessing the files stored throughout her mind, "There's a lot about the Cipher Pol's missions, all the assassinations and espionage. I also have the reports and debriefs on their reconnaissance missions, all the info they gathered. I've got the records from Impel Down and Enies Lobby. There's stuff about Mariejois. I know everything about every allied country on file," everyone stared in awe, but she continued, "I know every single government employee's schedules and history, then their family history too. I've got most every famous pirate and their crews, bunch of bounties are floating up there too. It gets jumbled sometimes, but the stuff about ancient weapons and the poneglyphs are usually pretty clear. The endpoint stuff are is pretty cool too."

There was a stunned silence as Mila continued to stare at the ceiling, lost in the endless halls of her mind. They stared at the child as her eyes glazed over and her face went slack.

"Aren't endpoints a myth?" Thatch muttered nervously.

"Endpoints, that's what you're concerned about?" Izo asked, "I'm more shocked about the poneglyphs and the ancient weapons."

Finally sitting up, Marco said, "Fuck Mila, that's some serious shit," when she didn't look away from the ceiling, Marco called her name again, but louder.

Mila jerked towards Marco, looking completely surprised to see other people were in the room with her, "Hmmm? Did you say something?"

Whitebeard spoke before anyone else could comment, "No dear, nothing to fret over," Whitebeard smiled calmly.

Mila returned the smile, her tensed up muscle relaxing. The rest of the men shifted uncomfortably, wholly unaware on how to react to Mila's 'episode', they, mostly Thatch, was extremely shaken.

Marco cleared his throat, standing, "So we know why they desire her so much, but we have yet to come to a solution."

Izo sighed, "Basically."

"So direct confrontation is out of the running?" Thatch asked, his tone verging on hopelessness.

"Why?" Mila asked, shaking the last few cob webs from her mind, "It seems like a plausible plan, confront the man leading the charge and give him an ultimatum. One which he couldn't refuse, we are the Whitebeard pirates after, with the limited forces they have at the moment and our numbers, we could certainly threaten them into submission. Right?"

"More troops are coming, probably with an admiral not following far behind. I don't doubt they would do anything to retrieve you, with the information you retain, they wouldn't stop short of destroying the island." Jinbe affirmed solemnly.

"And those ass holes would never give in to the demands of a group of pirates," Thatch commented bitterly, "too high and mighty for that shit."

Mila frowned, not exactly pleased that her plan was vetoed so fast. With that one tossed into the waste bin, Mila's thinker wavered to another strategy, one that would not be wise to share with her elders. Switching to a nonchalant attitude, Mila turned towards the door, "Whatever, you boys figure out something, I'm going to go get fixed up," she tried to keep her expression uncaring and casual, as Marco turned a frown her way.

"Okay," he said cautiously, "don't do anything stupid."

"I'm just going to the med wing," she replied, chuckling. Marco was too inquisitive for his own good. With a casual wave of her body hand, she blinked away, changing her directions a tad though.

Rear Admiral Cale POV

It had been exactly 42 minutes and two sixths of a seconds since I proclaimed my annunciation to the Island, demanding claim on the child who escaped our clutches. I've sat at my desk within my battle ship, assessing each individual aspect of the small child six times over. Six inches away from the files that were distributed to me from the beginning of the surreptitious mission, was a pure sea prism stone collar, ready to place on the moment of capture. Alive.

Till a few days ago, I had no conception of the girl, or her foretold fortunes within her adolescent mind. And to be completely truthful, I was more than a little intrigued. Both by her information and position within the Whitebeard pirates, each as perplexing as the other.

As the stormy haired girl ran rampant throughout my head, my thoughts manifested right in front of my eyes. The same girl from each file appeared upon his 600 count rug. The few deviations from the standard military photo and the real deal were stark. Her hair was wind swept and free, dried blood was crusted up one arm, a thick metal brace adored the other. Her eyes looked beyond her ten years, pure passion filled them to the brim. She was no longer the timid child under the governments thumb. Nevertheless, I wasn't going to let her escape.

"The Blinking Child, is this Whitebeard's way of saying he is giving up?"

The girl absently brushed a stray hair from her forehead, "No, I'm here on behalf of the crew for negations,"

I smiled dryly, "Negotiations? On what exactly?"

"You retracting all your forces from Fishman Island peacefully, without me of course."

Her confident air only increased my amusement, "And I'm going to do this because otherwise your crew will commence an attack?"

"No," she replied smoothly, "or I'll reveal your dirty little secrets."

I held back my frown with a scoff, "What could you possibly reveal that is so incriminating that I would retract my ships. I am on orders from Sengoku himself."

The tiny girl wandered over to my desk, running her finger over the surface, so very close to sea prism stone, "Well, there's your severe case of OCD, you have to have everything in pair of sixes. Even the number of men under you, the total is always a multiple of six."

I cringed, I struggled with my OCD since joining the marines, but have managed to keep it a secret from my comrades. "So? It's not like that would affect my career."

"But," she started, "you killing five of your own men to even out your numbers of kills certainly would."

I lunged, my hands ready to wrap around the cocky child's throat. She evaded using her devil fruit, leaving my blood thirsty hands empty. "How do you know that?" I hissed. I had the official report destroyed soon after it was filed, very few knew even of that night.

It was one of my first attacks on a pirate ship after receiving my current title. I had gone a killing rampage, slaying the pirate crew with no mercy, but once the crew had been alimented, my number of kills had been one over a perfect multiple of six. And with the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I had nearly no control over my OCD impulses. I killed the first five of my men who approached me. I would have been immediately arrested under normal circumstances, but my mentor helped cover it up to the best of his ability, making my blunder but a small foot note in the official report.

"I get a stack of files each month to memorize, apparently you didn't dispose of the evidence fast enough," she said flippantly, "How easy it would be to out you, your whole career down the drain in the blink of an eye." She snapped her fingers to make her point. "The only way to avoid that extremely probable outcome would be to obey my demands and retreat."

I sunk back into my chair, chest heaving. I had worked so hard to get to where I am, I did everything right. But it was that one mistake, that one damn mistake I thought I was free of, that could ruin everything. "Ok, I agree to your terms," I said through clenched teeth, "But remember this Blinking Child, you won't always have secrets to hide behind."

She smiled, a sweet innocent smile, a smile that would normally belong to an innocent ten year old, not a mentally corrupt pirate. "I know," she slinked away to the door, even though it served no function to her since she disappeared a moment after she uttered the next few words, "the names Mila by the way, Mila of the Whitebeard pirates."

**(A/N)** Back story behind Rear Admiral Cale's name! So I didn't use my awesome technique of combined two items this time, instead I borrowed it from a comment from ichigo1508, (I hope you don't mind!) I've been really bad at replying to comments lately, so this was my way of saying I will answer more! BTW Cale is a combination between cake and pineapple, just reading ichigo1508 comment made me hungry! Maybe I should take more combination names suggestions from readers? So readers out there, if you're up for the challenge, come up with a combination name of two objects and post it in a review or PM me, if I like it, you could see it in an upcoming chapter!

LB


	26. Chapter 25

**(A/N) **WARNING! This is the last chapter before a time skip! Mila is adorable and everything, but I think it's time she takes a step into the future and grows up a tad. There will be a few different time skips till she reaches fourteen, which is when Ace comes and joins the crew (YAY). So it's more of a summary of the time she leaves Fishman Island till Ace comes into the picture. But I'm excited! It'll be fun to write a more grown up Mila. So get a good whiff of ten year old Mila, because this is the last time you'll see her.

LB

Chapter 25

Third POV

After another grueling round of arguments within Whitebeard's quarters, Marco went to seek out Mila. Their heated discussions had revealed no new ideas, they had been torn between the options of retreating or attacking, but then they realized they were the Whitebeard pirates, and Whitebeard pirates didn't retreat. Marco was going to update Mila with their decision, to fight. They could have easily come up with this conclusion twenty minutes ago, but instead they wasted precious time on pointless spats. Men.

The chaos that encased the rest of ship hadn't spared the med wing. Jim had his hands full with a man's internal organs, at that particular moment, they seemed to be escaping his body. Amid the anarchy that claimed the med wing was Mila. She was using the medical encyclopedias tangled in her mind to assist her in the task of stitching up her brothers and bandaging them. Her own arm was wrapped tightly with white gauze. Even among all the blood and gore, she wore a pleased smile.

A body shoved Marco to the side as he tore into the room at full speed. Jim darted over to him, concerned that he had been hurt somehow, and that was why he was so frantic. "Are you okay? Are you bleeding?" Jim asked like a good doctor as he helped him sit down, taking his weight on his shoulders.

He brushed Jim off, "I'm fine, I have news though!" he said, "The marines are retreating, without a word, they loaded up on coated ships and set sail."

"Really?" Jim breathed.

He nodded vigorously. Marco frowned, it wasn't like the marines just to back down. He spared a glance at Mila as the men discussed the marines retreat. Mila wore a look of surprise, her mouth a tiny O and her eye brows raised. But something suspicious sparkled in those green eyes of hers. She caught her looking and smiled, not a sneaky smile or anything, a simple sweet smile. Something had to be up. She broke eye contact as the brother she was attending to said something. Everything seemed normal, she couldn't have possibly done anything, right? Marco let out a great sigh and ran a hand through his hair, when did he become so paranoid?

"Don't you think you're being a bit superfluous with those nails Thatch?" Mila commented as she observed her brother at work.

It was the day after the marines had retreated from Fishman Island when the Whitebeard pirates set about fixing up the island. The uninjured ones at least. Some of the crew had been injured by the attack and were still residing in the med wing with Jim at their side, being the faithful doctor he was.

Thatch scowled up at her, "If you have a problem with it, you come down here and do it yourself."

Mila was mostly supervising since both her arms were out of commission from the battle. So she sat atop a pile of lumber as Thatch set to hammering and nailing up boards. She preferred hanging near Thatch since Marco kept giving her funny looks and Izo kept fretting over her newly damaged arm.

According to Jim though, she should recover completely, it might not even leave a scar. That disappointed Mila somewhat, she wanted more battle scars, all her brothers had them and they all looked badass and intimidating. Maybe she could swing a scar on her face like Thatch, but there was no why in hell she was putting a knife to her face, especially so close to her eyes. Only an idiot would ever do that.

Floating on a bubble a little ways away from Mila and Thatch was Mesi. She was passing out supplies to the citizens as Namur trailed not far from behind. She didn't let her Fibrous dysplasia hinder her one bit.

Mile was letting her legs swing over the edge of her perch when she heard a commotion off down the street somewhere. Mila shot a quizzical look at Thatch, who had also looked up at the noise, he shrugged pathetically.

Mila jumped off the stack of lumber and wandered off in the direction of the noise. She passed left over debris from the broken shops and house, the marines sure had done a number on the island. The source of the noise came from a small grocery store, mostly in one piece after the attack. The manager of the store was yanking a child out of the store yelling for the police while claiming he had a thief.

The closer she got, the better she could appraise this so called "thief". They struggled fruitlessly in the manager's steel grip, white hair flying in all directions as they struggled. "Killian?"

He froze in the store manager's hold when he heard her. "Mila? Mila!" he shouted helplessly.

She rushed over to the scene, "What's going on?" she demanded of the manager.

He scowled at her, "Nothing that has to do with you girl." He spat.

Now Mila glowered, "Girl? I'm a Whitebeard pirate, I'm the Blinking Child. I don't think girl is an accurate enough description."

He frowned, discomfited by his mistake, "Sorry, but this kid has been stealing from my store for months now. It's about time he pays for his crimes."

The packaged goods he had brought to her in the cave flashed across her mind, "Well, this boy is under my protection, and therefore, under the protection of the Whitebeard pirates. Any past indiscretions are now excused." She declared as a crowd began to gather around them, "So if you would be kind enough to unhand him, now."

Scoffing at her sweeping declaration, the manager said, "Even if you are a Whitebeard, you're still a child, it's the law kid, that's how we do it here on the island."

"Good thing me and the law don't get along," she said, taking a threatening step forward. He didn't seem fazed by her clenched fists or the daggers she was glaring at him till a shadow fell upon them. Twisting around to see who had encroached on her argument, she halted. Behind her loomed the Warlord Jinbe.

"What seems to be the problem Jacobi?" the warlord asked the manager in a civilized tone, nothing like Mila's own brash manner.

"This- this girl, seems to think she can pardon this thief just because she's a Whitebeard. This boy has cost me months of income! He must pay!" His fishman scales were flushing with anger.

Jinbe redirected his gaze to Mila, his scrutiny bore into her like a knife. She tried not to squirm under his intense gaze, but after the very recent and very close call with the government, she wasn't too thrilled on being in the same breathing space as the warlord. Mustering her strength, she met his stare head on. Surprisingly enough, Jinbe broke the connection first. "I'm sorry for all the inconveniences you've been faced with, but Mila's right. The boy is now under Whitebeard's protection, and therefore is pardoned," his gaze flickered down to Killian, "but I assure you, he won't steal from you again, at least as long as he is under Whitebeard's protection." Mila sensed a veiled threat aimed towards her and Killian. If Killian stepped out of line again he would get no help from Mila or her crew, and would have to face the proper repercussions.

The fishman grumbled unhappily, but nodded, "As long as I have your word Warlord Jinbe."

Jinbe bobbed his head solemnly, "Of course."

Reluctantly, he released Killian from his grip. He lurched away from the man, stumbling blindly, literally. Mila stepped forward to guide him away from the store and its grumpy manager. "Are you okay?" she whispered to Killian. He nodded, shaking his dirty white hair in the process. "What are you doing up here? Its dangerous!"

"I-I was wo-worried about you." He admitted, hiding even further in his long white hair. Mila remembered blinking out of his cave without a word, he hadn't even known where she had gone. Of course he had worried about her. But something in his uneven words touched her.

Interrupting the young duo mid-conversation, Jinbe asked, "So, Mila, who is your friend?"

She scowled at him, "None of your concern Warlord." She hissed.

He frowned, and was about to admonish her for her tone when Mesi came floating over on her bubble. "What's going on Jinbe?" she asked innocently, noting Killian and Mila out of the corner of her eye.

"Mila was just introducing me to her new fishman friend," Jinbe commented slyly. With Mesi there, Mila couldn't mouth off to Jinbe, she respected her enough not to act insolently. "Right?"

Mila hide her frown, "Yeah, of course," she said, failing at trying to hide her sour tone, "This is Killian, we met the other day." She gestured to the filthy boy in rags next to her. Maybe not the best first impression.

Mesi bobbed closer, "Killian, what a nice name. It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Mesi." She said as sweetly as ever.

"Ni-ice to meet y-you." Killian stuttered in his young voice. He inched closer to Mila unconsciously.

"Now Mila," Namur started, creeping his was into the conversation, "where exactly did you meet?"

"The sea caves."

"The sea caves?"

She nodded, "That's where he lives,"

"Oh no," Mesi interjected, "that won't due. That's no place for a child to live."

"Sor-ry?" Killian tried, not sure how to react to Mesi's remark.

"Namur!" Mesi summoned her husband, a determined expression claiming her gentle face. "This boy, Killian, is coming home with us."

Everyone froze, "Dear," Namur treaded carefully, "that's quite a rash decision, maybe we should talk about it-"

"No." she said defiantly, not giving him an inch.

"But with your condition," he tried to reason with her softly, "can you really take care of a child?"

She turned an icy glare at him, "Of course I can. And I will. You know I can't have any of my own because of my 'condition', so I want this one."

Namur shook his head, "Mesi, he's not a dog, he's a child for god sake."

Killian was beyond confusion at this point, not quite sure what was happening. "Um, I h-have no e-eyes," he added, as if this was some deciding factor in what seemed to be his impending adoption.

Mesi's expression softened at the boys tentative voice, "Yes, but we all have our own challenges," she dragged Killian closer to her by the hand. Carefully, she placed his hand on the kink in her tail and dragged it along. She carefully watched his expression as she smoothly let go of Killian's hand. He let his hand linger after she let go, warily feeling out her deformed tail, slowly understanding her own challenges. "Killian, would you like to come home with me?"

Quietly, Killian removed his webbed hand and nodded.

It was a ten days after the Marines attacked that the Whitebeard Pirates finally departed from Fishman Island. They had done what they could for the island in the way of repairs and ultimately decided to move on to the second half of the Grand Line.

Mila had conflicted feelings on the whole thing. Half of her was excited to go venture into the second half of the grand line for the first time, but the other half was sad to leave the island. Throughout their stay, Mila had made many friends who were hard to part with.

Mesi and Killian being a few. After Mesi had 'adopted' Killian, he had started to look better, finally putting some meat on his bones. The hollows in between his ribs and in his face were filling out. Moreover, Mesi had bought Killian clothes that actually fit. He still stuttered when he spoke, but the more he stayed with Mesi and Namur in their tiny apartment, the more he improved. It was amazing how easily he had assimilated to their small family.

It took everything Mila had to say goodbye to Killian, and she hadn't actually even said goodbye. Instead, she left one of her favorite books and two notes. One was directed towards Mesi, she was to read it to Killian. It told him she would be back, and when she did eventually return, she expected him to talk her about the book she had left. The other letter was sealed and addressed to Killian, he was to open it when he could read. She felt a distinctive link between her and Killian, they had somehow bonded beyond words and changed something within her. In the letter she had tried to describe that idiosyncratic feeling to him.

The other people she said goodbye to was the royal family. As she promised, she returned to see Shirahoshi once again. Mila admitted to her that she was her first real girl friend, Shirahoshi had blushed when she admitted to the same thing. Mila had thanked King Neptune for his hospitality and guaranteed that she would visit again to get to know his sons better. That had made him laugh.

Laying on the head of the whale figure head at the bow of the ship, Mila watched as the island became no more than a dot in the vast water. Mila wasn't going to saying she was pouting, but she certainly wasn't not pouting.

Rakuyo sunk down next to Mila, a map in hand. "So Mila, where to next?" he asked.

"I don't know, does it matter?" She mumbled, not very committed to the idea of leaving Fishman Island.

"Well," Rakuyp rolled out his map in front of them revealing a crude map of the world. "Well you have the world at the tips of your fingers with us by your side."

She examined the map with carefully consideration, "Okay, then I want to go everything, I want to see the whole world."

**(A/N) **P.S. I'm really proud of myself for getting this written so fast!


	27. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Third POV

Two years later

Reclining in her spot in the crow's nest, Mila nursed her new bio-engineering manual, a gift from a new allied pirate captain, Whitey Bay. After saving the crew from an extremely precarious situation in the New World, they were glad to swear allegiance to Whitebeard and become part of his family. The celebration of the union had just ended, it was the first time in days that Mila could silently watch the horizon peacefully.

"Hey chicky!" her brother called from below, his voice crashing into her serene bubble.

Gruffly, Mila glanced at the page number and set it to the side. "What do you want Thatch?" she yelled down at him, flinging the upper half of her body over the side of the nest.

He waved a stack of papers up at her from the deck, "Got a new stack of wanted posters for ya." This coaxed a small grin out of her. A new stack of wanted posters meant a trip to Marine Ford. She blinked down next to Thatch, greedily swiping the wanted posters from his calloused hands. She absently began to walk away from him while shuffling through the papers, memorizing the bounties and faces as she headed below deck unconsciously. Down there was where her Little Moby was stored. Ever since she started heading out alone on the sea a year or so ago, Mila has always taken her trusty little skiff with her.

Following a few short steps behind her, Thatch smirked at his little sister. He always loved her dedication when it came to her tiny skiff.

"How far are we from the red line?" Mila asked with a swift efficiency to her words. She clambered down the stairs in a hurry, each step having a purpose.

"About a week sail away, but with that handy contraption of yours, I think you can cut that in half." Thatch commented from his place leaning against the doorway. Due to some mechanical engineering books Mila had picked up on her journey, she had become an inventor of sorts. And with the help of Atmos and his handiness with all machines, Mila developed her engine. It was small, but what it lacked in size it made up in speed, her brothers liked to mock the similarities between her and her engine. It made travelling across the grand line all the more easier. The one problem she couldn't master was the fuel source. As of the moment, it came from gas emitted from decaying tree roots from an island still stuck in the prehistoric times. It was difficult to collect, too difficult to gather enough to fuel a ship such as the Moby Dick. But it worked just fine for her Little Moby.

Mila propelled herself onto the tiny deck of the Little Moby, heading straight to the back so she could reeve her tiny engine up. "Now chicky, before you get ahead of yourself, recite the rules,"

The rules. The rules Izo had engraved into Mila's head the first time she went out on the sea alone. He had thought she was too young and inexperienced to go out on the grand line alone. So naturally, the only way he would let her out alone was if she abided by his five rules.

"One, don't fight unless provoked. Two, don't be recognized. Three, don't talk to the 'big dogs' of the marines. Four, running away is better than being dead. Five, come back." Mila recited them with a monotone voice. They were practical rules, but after performing them so much Mila was bound to get sick of them eventually.

Thatch tsked at her tone, "What would Izo do if he heard that attitude little chicky?"

She rolled her eyes, "Well," she yanked back the chain connected to the fuel tank of her engine with the help of her left hand, "he would scowl and chastised me viscously," she flipped back a piece of her stormy hair with a quick flip of her head, "then I would apologize and then proceed to do again."

As the years went on, little Mila became such a little spitfire, causing Izo endless grief. He was one of the last brothers who still tried to contain the small girl. Even Marco had given up after she got her second bounty. She was becoming a force to be reckoned with that was for sure. "Ah little chicky, what will we ever do with you?"

She smirked beneath a veil of hair, "Love me unconditionally?" right on cue, her engine came alive with a smooth hum of a well-oiled machine.

Thatch chuckled as she pushed off her untied boat, "Already done."

The sound of the Little Moby bobbing against the abandoned dock beneath Marine Ford echoed behind Mila as she ascended a hidden stairwell leading to the marine's headquarters. She had discover the deserted dock and stairs when she first discovered that her government files were outdated.

Almost a year and a half ago, Mila had attempted to identify a rival pirate ship for Haruta one day, but came up empty, realizing that she had no information on it at all. Soon, that realization became more and more regular, hitting Mila where it counts. She had always prided herself on knowing everything and everyone on the sea, but once she no longer retained new, important information, she felt utterly useless to her family. It was when she refused to feel inadequate anymore that she decided to go to Marine Ford to regain her lost knowledge.

So with the building schematics memorized and a brown wig in hand, she set off. Since she had her own wanted poster, she couldn't just walk in, she would just be too noticeable. Hence the brown wig. She had decided to take up the identity of an antisocial lieutenant's young daughter. The lieutenant refused to talk about anything but work, so no daughter ever mentioned, but if someone would look at his desk, they would see an old picture of a brown haired baby girl with green eyes. That was his genuine daughter, but she lived in the north blue with his wife, and never visited her father at Marineford. So Mila had taken her place. People didn't give her a second glance once she explained who she was, except one.

While ambling down a hallway leading to the records hall, Mila saw a familiar face. "Garp-san!" she yelled to the old man as he was about to turn the corner ahead of her.

"Ah, Suri! You're back!" the Vice Admiral stopped as he waited for Mila race over, calling her by her alias.

She nodded eagerly, "Yup, I got here this morning."

Garp beamed down at her, the scar near his eye crinkling in response, "It's been too long, look how big you've gotten."

She blushed as he patted her head affectionately. Mila had a run in with the Vice Admiral the first time she broke into Marineford, and was scared shitless, so very sure he would recognize her and kill her. But to her surprise, he was beyond friendly with her, recounting tales of his own grandchildren, two boys who were a few years older than her. Since their first meeting, the two had become good friends of sorts. At least as good as friends as an undercover pirate and a Vice Admiral could be. She always sought him out when she visited.

"I haven't grown an inch," she protested while smiling, "you're just getting senile."

He gave a hearty laugh, one that reverberated through her body, reminding her of Whitebeard. "I would smack my boys over the head for a comment like that girl. When you start you're training I'll show you how to respect your elders." Mila may or may not have mentioned she wanted to become a marine when older. It had pleased him at the time, so she went with it.

"I'm looking forward to it, but I should get back to dad, I kinda snuck away." She was sorry to end their meeting short, but she had heard all three admirals were at Marine Ford and wanted to get in and out as fast as possible.

"Ah, you sneaky brat. Well stop by my office before you leave to say bye." He said, giving her a rough pat on her head, she almost buckled under the weight of his hand.

"Will do!" Mila edged around him, heading down the hallway he had come from.

"Don't get in too much trouble Suri." He called after her and turned to go do some very marine-ish work.

She had to repress a snort as she ducked onto a broom closet. Once enclosed in darkness and surrounded by the sweet smell of bleach and other equally pleasant smelling cleaning products, she blinked into a nearly identical closet. She sheepishly peeked out of the door, checking if the cost was clear. Out in the hall way, a Marine private was walking past. He raised a critical eyebrow at her, she innocently shrugged "Hide and seek?"

He rolled his eyes and continued on. Mila took the victory and darted the other way, heading towards the records hall. When she had first broken into Marine Ford, the hardest part was getting a key to the records hall. It took a whole day to figure out who possessed it, only to find out Sengoku did, and to face Sengoku would break one of Izo's five rules, so she was faced with a problem. As a solution, she let his goat go. While he was occupied with chasing his prize goat, Mila stole into his office and snatched the key. Since then, she had made a copy and looped it on a chain around her neck, which made life so much easier.

She pulled the copy out from under her blue dress and twisted it in the lock, the confirming clicks of the gears met her ears thankfully. It eased open without a creak. Inside the records halls was rows and rows of files illuminated with dim hanging lamps that flickered every so often. Not a soul lingered in the dusty, stale room, the only people who wandered in there were the translators, who translate the files into code. After completing a file, they would put the translated copy in the records hall and burn the original. Since no one but them could decipher the code, they thought it was safe behind a single locked door. She figured the code out when she was seven. It's not like the translators could tell anyone their tricks either, they were all mute.

Mila ran her finger tips along the rows of files till she came to the newest ones, the ones lacking the thin coating of dust like the others. Pulling them off the shelf with care, she carried her new haul to a corner, where she curled up and started reading as if she was on the deck of the Moby Dick reading one of the mysteries Thatch liked to pick up.

Later her eyelids started to droop, getting heavier with each new file she picked up. When she was almost finished with her last box, she fell asleep completely while a mass murder file lay open on her lap.

Awoken by footsteps, Mila shoot straight up, ruffling the papers surrounding her. She scrambled to rub the sleep out of her eyes as the lock to the records hall jiggled. Oh shit, she thought as rushing to put the files back in their place, I'm going to get caught. Her heart rate speeding up rapidly, threatening to burst from her chest. Depositing the files on the shelf, she heard the door open. As she blinked away, Mila thought she saw a glimpse of a red suit looming in the doorway.

She tossed the image away as she landed on the Little Moby, safely stowed away in the abandoned dock. Letting the gentle sway of her skiff soothe her, Mila took a deep breath, her heart still thundering. As long as she's been sneaking into Marineford, no one has ever come in. She couldn't stop assuming that they were looking for her. But no one knew she was there, or who she really was. All she wanted to do was chalk it up to a coincidence, but couldn't.


	28. Chapter 27

**(A/N) **Within this chapter is three mini chapters. They were all ideas I had stored in my head, and I had planned to make them all into their own individual chapters, but decided to take the short way out and make them all it one chapter. They're not in chronological order, so pay attention to the little thing at the beginning. Enjoy!

Chapter 27

Third POV

Three years since Fishman Island

Mila lazily traced the twin stars printed on the inside of her elbow while laying out of the sparring deck, taking a break from her Haki training. Vista sat sharpening his swords as he waited for Mila to regain the vigor she had when starting training that morning. Thatch also sat with them, only he was having a cherry pit spitting contest with Haruta instead of actually contributing to the lesson.

"So you guys remember Etoile, where those Two Star guys hung out?" Mila grazed her finger nail over the raised marks.

"Not really," Thatch said, sounding playfully bored

"I think vaguely," Haruta replied, sounding as spirited and uninterested as Thatch.

"The name does sound familiar," Vista said, playing along. Vista always tended to be more spirited around Thatch and Haruta. Not enough so that he would be an ally in their plans of mass destruction, but enough to get Mila smiling at her mustached brother.

"You know what," Thatch pulled a stray cherry pit from his hair, "now that you mention it, I do vaguely remember beating the shit out of some guys for walloping on my little sister and permanently scaring her."

Used to their playful antics by now, Mila continued unfazed, "Yeah, them. Well something they said stuck with me."

"What completely idiotic thing did the numskull wanna be gangsters say to you that would keep you thinking about it for over three years?" Haruta asked, only seeming mildly interested though.

"Every Whitebeard Pirate has a mark. Is it true?"

Vista nodded and turned his back to her to lift up the hem of his shirt to reveal a glimpse of a dark navy blue jolly roger, "Of course."

Haruta yanked his collar to the side, and at the top of his right shoulder was the same, simplified jolly roger, only in a deep green, "That is except Turner, he's allergic to the tattoo ink."

Mila turned to Thatch expectantly. He rolled his eyes, "Chicky, are you really that eager to get me shirt off?"

"Actually," Mila admitted, "yes. I don't ever recall you with your shirt off for an extended amount of time." Most men of the ship tended to live shirtless while aboard the Moby Dick. Before Mila's arrival three years prior, most men went pantless as well. At the beginning of her life aboard the ship Mila had seen much more than she ought to at her young, impressionably age.

"Maybe I'm just shy," Thatch mockingly fanned himself like a young school girl.

She rolled her eyes, "Come on big man, strip."

Haruta leaned over to Vista and whispered in his ear, "Let's not teach her about strip poker." Vista nodded in agreement.

Shoulders sagged in defeat, he started untying his yellow scarf. Mila whooped when he started to unbutton his chef's shirt. As his hands worked their way down his shirt, Mila questioned his outfit choice, "You're banned from the kitchen half the time, why in the world do you wear a chef's uniform, because to my knowledge, you can't cook either."

"It's a poignant story actually," Vista started, clearing his throat "taking place when Thatch was a young boy,"

"Becoming more ruggedly handsome with each passing day," Thatch butted in, his tone was sour and mocking. He was clearly not thrilled by the telling of his story.

"He escaped his perilous situation and met Whitebeard, a fierce Emperor of the Grand Line. Pops welcomed the young trouble maker with open arms, as he did with most of us. But once aboard, the only piece of clothing the young boy retained that wasn't in shambles was a yellow scarf. So out of the goodness of their hearts, the kitchen staff lent him one of their uniforms. Ever since then, that has been his outfit of choice."

Mila was about to comment on how touching, and heartwarming and how unThatch the story sounded like when Haruta added to it, "But they soon began to regret it with their every breath. The young Thatch had become enthralled by the cooks and imitated their every move. It soon came to light that he had no skill in the kitchen, and only in destroying things. That was when he was promoted to the fourth division commander. All because his innate gift of destroying things."

Whereas Thatch was scowling at the two story tellers, Mila was restraining her snort. That story sounded much more like the Thatch Mila knew and loved. "I don't doubt that at-"Mila's sassy comment was cut short by a shirt tackling her head. She batted the white shirt off her head in a scurry, blowing her hair out of her face simultaneously. She hadn't had the urge to cut it back to its shoulder length recently, so it was growing longer and more unruly as the each day passed. "What was that for-" and there in front of her was a shirtless Thatch. She just could not finish a sentence toady.

Thatch had his back to her, baring to her his mark. The tattoo was the exact replica of the jolly roger flying on Whitebeard's flag high in the sky at that moment, only in a deep, rich purple. That was nothing surprising, it was just a tattoo, but the skin beneath it was what drew her eyes. It was as ragged and scared as a sea during a new world storm. The tattoo had been strategically placed so the most scarred areas were covered, but the damage was evident. It was as if some had poured alcohol down his back and flicked a match onto him and watched him burn. The scars were old. Older than herself, he must have been young when it had transpired. Whatever happened, it certainly had been a perilous situation.

"I like the color," Was what she said instead of voicing her regrets of what occurred to him in past years. "It very royal and such, very bombastic and ostentatious. Complements your scarf too, yellow and purple being contrasting colors and all."

He peeked back at her skeptically, "Really, ostentatious? That's the word you would use to describe it?"

Nodding causally, she flipped a longer piece of stormy hair over her shoulder, "Yeah, plus bombastic. Only a few could pull off such a bold color. I mean, I could, but that's beside the point."

He raised a humored eyebrow at her, "You think you could pull it off? Well then, let's do it."

"What?'

Smirking, he said, "Get your mark, of course. You're what, thirteen? That's plenty old for a tattoo."

Vista frowned slightly, "I don't think Izo would agree."

"But Izo's out on a mission though," Haruta piped in, "So is Marco." AKA no voice of reason.

"Ok," Mila said, puffing up her chest while standing up, "let's do this. Where's Curiel and the tattoo gun?"

Thatch left his shirt off for the rest of the day.

One Year after Fishman Island

Mila POV

After living on the Moby Dick for a little less than a year, I finally realized that peace and quiet was nonexistent, rare at best. It was at that moment when I volunteered for watch duty in the crow's nest. It was high enough, that one of my brothers would have to actually exert energy to try and come and bother me. Up in my crow's nest, it was easy to ignore their bothersome yells from below my perch.

We were docked today, but that sure as hell wouldn't get me down from the crow's nest. The sun was at the perfect height in the cloudless sky and there was an impeccable breeze blowing my hair from my face, there was no way I was going to muck around on a cluttered island with that kind of pristine conditions. The intense allure of books did worm its way into reason, but Kingdew had promised he would pick some up for her, so no problem.

I was memorizing one of those quaky origin stories I found on some sketchy native island when men started traipsing on to the deck, the book talked about ravens being born of shadows. It said a group of thirteen ravens' foretold death. I was calling bullshit, even in the crazy world I lived in, filled with devil fruits and unexplained happenings, even that was a bit farfetched, or complete crap.

The guys below me were loud. Louder than usual, uncomfortably so. Snapping the stupid book closed and tossing it on top of a pile of bio-engineering book I had brought up earlier, I lunged to the side to peek down at the ruckus. Of course it was Thatch and Haruta, but followed were Fossa, Speed Jiru, and a stranger. I know I'm bad with faces, but I was sure I had never once seen this man before. And it wasn't like my brothers to just let a stranger on board. Sure, they brought a few girl here and there, but this man was different. He had a rotten feel to him, one I could sense from all the way up in the crow's nest. He was missing a few too many teeth, his hair to greasy and his eyes too scheming. My nose wrinkled involuntarily, as if my body sensed it too. No, this man was wrong.

Third POV

"This is the main deck, where we do main deck things," Thatch gestured about, him and Fossa and Jiru were giving their new recruit a very general and unspecific tour of his new home, Marshall D. Teach following close behind, wearing a cheesy grin as he listened to Thatch's narration of the ship. "That's Pop's chair, where he sits."

"Oh, look, there's the floor you stand on," Fossa mocked, taking a deep puff of his cigar.

"Oh shut it," Thatch scowled when he saw their new brother chuckle at Fossa's snide comment, "That's the crow's nest, and that's a Mila." He pointed out his little sister who was leaning over the edge, her hair blowing as she stared at them precariously. Her face seemed impassive at the sight of Teach, but her green eyes flashed.

"Oh," Teach gazed up at the girl, holding her intense gaze, "What's a Mila do."

Thatch shrugged indifferently, "Nothing much."

Mila scowled at the comment and disappeared into the crow's nest momentarily. When she appeared again, she hurled a hefty book down at Thatch's head. Thatch managed to weave away to avoid losing precious brain cells, but ended up getting clipped in the shoulder. He swooped down and grabbed the book and waved it in the air at her, as if he was cursing the gods, "Damn you Mila and your fucking bio-engineering!"

"She reads a lot." Haruta supplied unhelpfully.

Fossa sighed, "She's our youngest sister. We picked her up a little less than a year ago where she was being held captive by the government and being used as a human database of sorts." He gestured up at her with his cigar, "Since then she has acquired quite a bounty and has started to become a badass in the making." Speed Jiru nodded silently in agreement.

Teach waved up at his new sister with a friendly smile pasted across his face, revealing his teeth, or lack of. Looking down in concentration, Mila frowned and disappeared back into the crow's nest. When she didn't reappear with an on slaughter of large medical books, Teach turned to his new brothers, "Is she usually shy?"

"Not really," Thatch frowned in contemplation, "she's not too fond of new people in her home."

Haruta nodded, mimicking Thatch's deep in though face, "When Jinbe came to visit awhile back, she tried to run him through with a harpoon." At Teach expression, he quickly assured him that she had failed.

"Does she have something against Fishman?"

Thatch snorted, "Hell no," in a low voice, Thatch said, "We actually think that she's got the hots for one back on Fishman Island, they're a tots cute couple."

And by some sheer feat, Mila heard, and in no time another book came hurtling towards Thatch's head. This time it found its target and sent the man to the ground. "Shit Mila! How many books do have you got up there!?" There was no answer.

"She's just not too fond of new people I guess," Fossa said, reciting what Thatch had said earlier. He landed a huge hand on Teach's back, and to Fossa's surprise, he didn't budge like most new recruits. His strength generally sent them to their knees. Continuing despite that, Fossa said, "Don't take it personally, she'll grow on you."

Above them, Mila was twisting a stray piece of hair, unlikely, she thought to herself as they led the imposing force away.

Three Years After Fishman Island

Mila POV

"Miiiillllllaaaa~"

"No."

"Come on, I'm dying here."

"If only." I calmly commented while flipping the page of her book. Thatch was sprawled out at the foot of my bed as I breezed through a new book he had bought me while he was out on his latest escapade. He had originally brought it to me in hopes of roping me into one of his latest schemes. Haruta had been on a reconnaissance mission for around a month, and without his partner in crime, he had been trying to recruit me in his endeavors. I wish I could say he was failing, but just last week I helped him glue the feet of the commanders to deck. I need to get off the ship soon or else I'll end up destroying the Moby Dick alongside Thatch.

"When did you get to be such a bore Chicky," Thatch pouted, puffing out his cheeks like a hamster who participated in pie eating contests every weekend, "Seriously though, puberty ruined you." He hung his head in a defeated manner.

So I hit puberty while aboard a ship of males while sailing through the middle of the New World, maybe not the ideal situation. To put it simply, everyone panicked, they were obviously not used a teenage girl's menstrual issues, even Jim freaked, and he's a doctor. Dad had given Whitey Bay an emergency call, demanding that her and her crew reach them as soon as possible. It had been mortifying. While Whitey had been really nice about, completely understanding, but that made it all the worse.

And Thatch had the audacity to bring it up again? Ah hell no. Blood rushed to my cheeks, from both anger and embarrassment. My natural instinct to throw my book at him took over, and before I sent the book flying, it hit him. Square in the face.

I blinked my eyes, my anger subsiding as intense confusion rise to the top, I wasn't quite sure I knew what had just transcribed. I didn't throw the book, no, my arm was still poised in the idyllic position to launch it, but somehow the book hit him. It took a second, but it hit me, just like my book had hit Thatch's face. It had been my devil fruit. The same tingling sensation that fills my body when I blink was restored, but only in my hand. Sure, I've been practicing with my devil fruit over the years, trying to hone it, but not nearly as much as my Haki. I never imagined this. I had only ever been able to blink myself and what I was touching, this took everything to a new level. I could now blink items themselves. Could this mean I could blinked with people now too?

All new possibilities opened before me, but first I reached for another book to test my new ability on Thatch again.


	29. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Four years after Fishman Island

Killian POV

My finger flew across the raised dot scattered tactically throughout the page. Absorbing the story as I went. But as quick as my fingers traveled, they couldn't reveal the story to me fast enough. The book had come in the mail the other day from Mila, I've had trouble putting it down since then. Life kept interrupting the imaginative story that had entrapped my full attention.

What yanked my from this new enthralling book this time was the sound of the door to Mesi and I's tiny apartment in the mermaid district opening. Since Mesi unofficially adopted me four years back, we have moved to a bigger place. A place where I could have my own bedroom. I had told Mesi that it wasn't a big deal and that I loved sleeping on the couch. Really though, I had been sleeping in cave for most of my life, living with Mesi was a dream. But she had insisted I needed my own space to grow and prosper, her words exactly. Ever since then, I've been trying to pay her back somehow. I do as many chores she'll allow me to do and I always take her to her weekly doctor appointments. And even then I feel like I could never repay her.

I felt similarly towards the Whitebeard pirates. Other than saving Fishman Island and pardoning me from my theft charges, they haven't down anything super significant to me specifically. No, but they saved Mila. What they did for Mila was amazing, and I could never reimburse them for their generosity towards her, and she didn't want me to either. Mila had tried to explain to me that what they did was normal, that it was a family thing and that you don't need to repay family. But this didn't stop me from thanking the great Whitebeard. I had practiced my speech for weeks before going, since my English still wasn't good. I had executed it perfectly when I finally boarded the ship, not one stutter or stammer. But when I finished, Whitebeard and the few commanders that had been nearby silent, I could feel their confused stares on my back. Mila apparently had gotten her previous notion from her brothers, because they also didn't understand why it was necessary for me to come and thank them. Despite their confusion, they still welcomed me to their party. Whitebeard later singled me out and thanked me for being such a good friend to Mila. It stunned me. One of the four great emperors, the strongest man alive, was thanking me, it was incomprehensible. He also extended a timeless invitation to come to the Moby Dick anytime I felt like it. And if Mila was aboard, I would never be far behind.

The dull sound of Mesi's feet padding into the apartment was welcomed to his ears. Since turning thirty, Mesi had been hesitant to use her new feet, fearing she'd fare even worse without her tail. But as time went on though, I came to expect her unmatched sound of her feet instead of her patchy swish of her tail. "Welcome home Mesi," I said as I shoved a bookmark within the pages of my book. "Do you need help putting away the groceries?" I ask, but I was already pushing myself to my feet. I only ask out of consideration for her, I already intended to help her.

I eased my way over to where Mesi's feet sounded, easily navigating around my surroundings. "Hi Killian, you could help me, but I heard something at the market today," there was a tad a mischief in her voice, "It seems like the Whitebeard Pirates just docked this morning." Ah, that voice was Mesi's match maker voice. She's been trying to get Mila and I to confuse our undying love for each since the first time she visited. I'm not denying any such feelings, but I wasn't admitting it that to Mila anytime soon. I could almost imagine the sound of her disbelieving laugh. Even with Mesi's underlying motives, I couldn't shake my excitement. Mila was here. It had almost been three months since she lasted visited and I was feeling the ache of her absence hard.

"I can help when I get back," I say, fully intending on doing so. But Mila is here, and I know just where to find her.

Mila POV

He was late. We had docked early this morning, and it was now almost midafternoon and Killian was nowhere in sight. I knew I shouldn't be mad that he was late, because technically we never set up a time or a date, but it was always expected. Once the Moby Dick was anchored in the harbor, I would blink straight to the sea caves in the hollowed out cavern where we first met. I usually wouldn't have to wait long for Killian to appear out of the darkness because once he heard we were even in the vicinity of the island, he would run towards the caves. We joked that it was our place, but it really was. We were the only two who could navigate the winding caves, me with my giant brain and him and his fishy senses. But over the years, we've added a few personal touches. Plush cushions littered the previously hard floor and a large area rug took up what wasn't covered up by pillows. I had down the shopping, since Killian hadn't seen the need for any of these things. Said he didn't have them while living there and didn't need them now. I countered with that my butt and back ached from laying on the hard ground and demanded fluffiness. I had won. But due to my lack of shopping experience and finesse, I ended up getting a rug too big. So now the one end curled against the wall.

Absently counting the crystals illuminating the ceiling like I'd done a hundred times before, I heard feet running down the cavern. I shoot up, knowing full well who those sure feet belonged to, only he would run around the sea caves with that kind of indisputable steps. And in no time, he appeared, sliding down the hole I first fell down four years ago.

A smile spread over my face at the sight of him. With date of birth unknown, I had to estimate Killian's age, but with his height he had to be two to three years older than me. I was short when I was ten, but at fourteen I hadn't grown much. It seemed that Killian just wouldn't stop growing, it bugged me to no extent. As did his hair.

"Hi Lil." I breathed.

He sighed, and if he had eyes, I'm sure he would have rolled them. "I hate when you call me that." He huffed.

I stepped closer to him, a single breathe way from him, "And I hate your hair like this." I unraveled a pony tail from my wrist and yanked his hair into my hand. He refused to cut his hair, keeping it long and in his face. I twisted his hair into pony tail behind his hair, while standing on my toes and my face was inches away from him, I snap his hair into place. But still, I linger.

"And I hate how we always have this conversation." He said, grinning.

"It's like our mating ritual," I said playfully, glad he couldn't see me blush, "not that fornication is on the menu or anything."

"Of course not"

"But you know what is on the menu today?" I whisper, leaning close to his ear, our cheeks brushing ever so softly, "books." I could feel his smile spread across his face.

Third POV

Four years after leaving Fishman Island the first time, but two weeks after leaving Fishman Island the previous time

"So I heard Jinbei's in some deep shit." Mila commented idly as she laid out on Whitebeard's shoulder. Even at fourteen, Mila could still fit on her dad's shoulder. It was getting increasingly difficult, not because of her size though, Whitebeard's growing collection of medical equipment was almost constantly draped across him. And it would be unfortunate if Mila prevented her dad from getting oxygen due to her fat ass squishing the tube.

Whitebeard let loose a low rumble, "That's a way to look at it. He's planning on facing off the rookie seeking my head, what's his name? Fire Fist Ace, Thatch and I talked about him a few weeks back, you brats start way too young. Well anyway, we're going to assist him, not unless Jinbei can defeat him first." He continued his half conversation as if it was nothing. And in reality it was nothing. People sought out Whitebeard's head every other day, none serious enough to go and pursue any of the pompous wanna be pirates. Mila didn't like the idea of going to help Jinbei, she trusted him as far as she could throw him, but was he really in enough trouble that he need their help? It seemed off to her.

"I've heard of him, supposed super rookie. I don't like him, last time I popped into Marineford his files were deep, where they keep the good dirt. That inches me in the wrong way." She knew that wouldn't make him change the Moby Dick's course, but at least she should mention it. She's seen this Ace kid's wanted poster a myriad of times, but all his information was concealed better than most rookies. It didn't bode well for her. Especially a report of his crew being spotted near the famed Red Haired Pirates, one of the other four emperor's crew. Even Mila had never met Red Haired Shanks, he was a sore subject aboard the Moby Dick. At the mention of his name, Whitebeard would go off on a tangent about the brat and his crew. It was always amusing, but when he got drunk and started to destroy things in the name of Shanks, it got a little sketchy. So the fact that this rookie met him, well it bothered her more than it should have.

"Mila you fret over nothing, you know." Whitebeard chided carelessly, "But it you're really concerned, we can drop you off at Marineford before we head off to Jinbei and this rookie."

"You know what, I think I'll take you up on that offer. I'm in the mood to snoop. And while on the matter of snooping," Mila looked Whitebeard in the face, a sly grin spreading, "I've noticed the lack of a division two commander in the last four years. What s up with that?"

He turned his head further towards his daughter, returning Mila's sly look with an equally crafty and calculating guise, plus a raised eyebrow, "Holland was part of the crew since its conception, and was the first second division commander. But he met a woman and settled down two years before we picked you up, he send a letter every once in a blue moon," with an amused voice and his signature laugh, he asked, "Why the sudden interest?"

She smirked, holding all the confidence in the world in her moss green eyes, "When I get back from Marineford, which, might I add, is the marine's base of operations and I managed to break into it at the age of eleven, and have continued to do so for three years. And I secured a 100,000,000 berri bounty at the age of ten, and that it has continued to increase since then. Do I need to mention the whole, 'I hold all the government secrets bit' too? Or the Haki thing either?" Mila listed off her glowing résumé with a hint of sarcasm. If anyone knew of her accomplishments better than her it was Whitebeard. He liked to brag endlessly to anyone who would lend an ear, and when face with the strongest man in the world, who wouldn't, "But anyways, when I get back I plan on securing the position of second division commander if it's the last thing I do."

**(A/N)** Dudes, oh my god, next chapter is Ace! I can't even wait, is that partially way this chapter was released so fast, maybe. I'm really excited, like you guys don't even get it. Like so excited that the first part of chapter 29 will be in his point of view. That excited. But can anyone spot the looming conflict that will strike strife between Mila and Ace? Guys, I'm excited.

LB


	30. Chapter 29

**(A/N)** Ace Time!

Chapter 29

Ace POV

I jerked awake in a supply room. Not the usual supply room aboard my own ship where I would sometimes spontaneously fall asleep while taking stock. No, I wasn't slumped over a crack a lemons haphazardly, I was atop a slim, one person bed with ratty sheets. And by the way my limbs were arranged, it was as if I had been placed there with great care.

I shoot up, my aching body and screaming muscles brought to life everything. I stumbled up from the bed, lurching towards the door, towards the fresh air. I felt like I was suffocating. Everything was rushing back, stealing away all the air in the cluttered room. Flashes of Whitebeard clouded my vision. The man who had sent me to my knees in an instant, as if I was a tiny pest buzzing too close to his ear. His strength, his size, his power, everything about him surpassed each expectation of him I had before deciding to take him on. He was a thing of true nightmares.

I slammed the door open, the snap of wood cracking resounded throughout my ears painfully. My head felt it had those annoying wind up clapping monkeys dancing around inside, playing with a tad more exuberantly than usual for tips to fuel their crack addiction. I tripped my way outside my door, my own feet inhibiting me from my goal. Giving up on moving all together, I slumped against the railing, my head falling in defeat. How could this happen?

"Hey!" a voice interrupted the beginning of my personal pity party, one this man was not invited to, a man started down at me, a cheesy grin splitting his face, "I'm the fourth division commander," he opened his arms in a wide gesture, "My name is Thatch!" I looked up at this man in near disbelief, who was this guy? Other than Thatch, commander of the fourth division. He was smirking like a complete fool at me. The last person I remember smiling at me with such a stupid grin was Luffy. That pissed me off. How dare he remind me of Luffy? And the stupid scar curving around his eye reminded me of Grap. This Thatch guy ignored my confused expression and jumped up onto the railing next to my head, reclining in to a relaxed position, as if he didn't intend on leaving anytime soon. "If you're gonna join us, we should become friends!" Join them? How could he even fathom the notion of me joining Whitebeard? I was planning on defeating him, still am actually, and he wants to be friends? Who thought like that? I knew one person. Luffy. Him and his boneheaded optimism. The thought of my little brother again almost brought a smile to my face, but this man was the enemy. Shit, way was this so confusing?

"Shut up!" I yelled, unable to take my inner turmoil.

Thatch let out a low whistle, "So you're grumpy when you wake up?" not fazed by my eruption one bit, "Oh yeah, you wanna know what happened after you passed out?" He asked. I did want to know. I had sent my crew away, not wanting them to get tangled in my fight with Whitebeard, the one I had planned on winning. But I don't remember anything but the comforting feel of my flames. My head landed back in my hands, my neck unable to support it anymore. "Your crew came to get you back," I feared the worse for my friends but didn't bother to raise my head, "so we beat the hell out of them. But they're not dead," he assured me, not that it did much for me, "They're on this ship, too." Anger rose from the pit of my stomach, why capture us? Why save my crew and me when they had the perfect chance to wipe each of the Spade Pirates out. They should have saved us the embarrassment and killed us when they had the chance.

"Don't you have to put me in cuffs or shackles?" I ask angrily, I was here alive so that meant I was a prisoner. Me, Portgas D. Ace, a prisoner. That's not something I ever imagined for myself.

"Shackles," he scoffed at the word, "we don't need them!"

I glared up at him, my eyes narrowing into slits, they thought they could handle me? They'd soon regret that decision. I leapt to my feet, stealing energy I didn't have in store and launched my fist at Thatch. Flames sparking in its path. And in the split second it took for me to set lose my fist on the unsuspecting commander, he was on his feet, my fist clutched in his hand, inches away from his face. Flames still flickered through his fingers as he tightened his grip. I froze, my gaze locked on his hand. Almost no one had ever stopped my punch.

With a good humored smile, he let go of my and moved back a step to give my flaming self a wide breath. "Quite a punch you got there rookie. The flames are a nice touch." He shock out his hand, exposing his burned palm to me. He caught my gaze linger on the burn I inflicted upon him, "This is nothing, one trip to Jim and I'll be good as new." He continued to talk as if I hadn't just attacked him, "Great doctor, Jim. He can fix up those bumps and bruises you've acquired in surplus in a jiffy."

"The ones your captain gave me?" I hissed, venom flooding from each of my words. This man was crazy.

He waved off the comment, "Nah, I think most of that was Jinbei. Jim already fixed him up perfect. Another reason you should go and see him." He insisted again. It was like Thatch actually cared about my well-being?

"What's up with you?! Why are you being nice to me?" I scream, letting my frustration out through my words. Was this his act to get me to trust him, let my guard down and then stab me in the back the next day? I wasn't falling for it.

"You may not get it yet, but if Pops accepted you, we all will." He grinned even harder, and propped his hand on his hip, "You're basically already family, rookie."

My mouth was already open to give him hell when an explosion shook the ship. And considering the size of the ship, it must have been a big explosion. "What the hell," I mumbled beneath my breath.

"Damn it Haruta!" he scowled towards the sound of the explosion, looking upset for the first time since he started the conversation, "we were supposed to wait for Mila." He shook his head in defeat, looking like how I felt. Scrummaging up a grin, he looked at me, "Hate to hit and run, but I have a feeling I have to go clean up some jelly," he was already edging away from me, "You should consider loosening up a bit, Ace. No one here's to hurt you, intentionally at least." He gave me an exuberant thumbs up and bounded away, leaving me swimming in my million emotions. One thing that stood out among my sea of thoughts was if the Whitebeard Pirates didn't plan on fighting back, it'll make it a sure as hell a lot easier to kill their beloved captain.

Third POV

"My, what a burn," Jim said as he handled Thatch's injured hand with the gentleness of a child. "Is this from another fight with the stove, you really need to stay out of the kitchen, Thatch."

Thatch chuckled, "Nah, like Dom would let me a yards width away from his kitchen. No, this is from our new house guest."

"Ah, Fire Fist lives up to his name. It must have been some powerful flames." Jim set his hand down into his lap and walked over to his stainless steel medicine cabinet. He reached for the key hanging underneath his shirt to unlock the overzealous lock clamped on the outside. Some crew members just couldn't be trusted with needles and narcotics. Twisting the key in the lock, Jim looked over his shoulder at Thatch, "So you talked to the boy? What's he like?" he asked, genuinely curious. Everyone wants to know about the new rookie aboard the Moby Dick.

He shrugged as Jim pulled bandages and antibiotics from the cabinet, "He's violent and rude. He'll fit in great. I'm sure he's hiding a fabulously tragic story behind that terribly serious scowl of his." Jim spread the antibiotic cream over his burnt hand, Thatch covered his wince with a smirk, "I think Mila'll especially like him."

A few weeks later

"Hey bitches, I'm back!" The customary Mila hello was welcomed aboard the main deck of the Moby Dick with cheers and her brothers own hello hoots. Standing in front of the railing of the deck, hand propped against her hip with her new badass attitude she had adopted so well over the years. A half smirk lit up her face.

"Please tell me you didn't wear that to Marineford?" Izo asked, rubbing his temples at her outfit. Around the age of twelve, Mila had refused to let him dress her any longer.

Mila rolled her eyes and flipped a piece of her stormy blue hair back over her shoulder, "Of course not Onii-san, I changed aboard the Little Moby. I wasn't wearing that stuffy dress any longer than I had too." These days, Mila's idea of stuffy was anything that went past her elbows and covered her stomach. She was wearing her usual outfit, short purple shorts with white poka dots tied to her by white ribbons. Her favorite yellow crop top adorned her chest. The sleeves falling off her shoulders, no more than two tiny yellow holes. The only thing really preventing every one with twenty-twenty vision from seeing her goods was a thin stretch of fabric tied around her neck.

Her whole wardrobe basically consisted of crop tops, she was very adamant about not covering her stomach. Tattooed from the bottom of her ribs to below her belly button was Whitebeard's simplified mark in a deep, ostentatious purple. It took up most of her stomach, and if it weren't for her breasts, it would have taken up her whole chest. There had been a great debate on whether to tattoo her back or her front. She wanted it to always be seen, so she tattooed her stomach and never wore a full shirt. It was that or tattooing her face like Curiel. This was the lesser of the two evils.

"So what took you so long Chicky?" Thatch asked from his place around a card table with Fossa, Kingdew and Jozu, the customary Sunday morning poker game was in full swing. Mila strolled over to the game, a slight sway to her hips. "Hung out with Garp a little," she dropped unceremoniously onto an empty supply crate situated next to the card table. "Snooped a ton. That Ace boy has a lot of skeletons in the closet." Mila absently picked a hang nail, "What happened to the kid, Dad kill him? Or did Jinbei get him before you guys got there?" she asked, only half paying attention.

Thatch scratched his scruff self-consciously with his injured hand, "Well, not exactly. . ."

"Thatch, what happened to your hand?" Mila looked around the ship for the first time since she had boarded, "And why are there so many holes in the walls?"

Right on cue, another hole was made. Fire Fist Ace came soaring through the wall, bringing shards of debris with him. He landed a mere foot or two away from the card game and Mila. The blood from his bleeding nose dripped onto the floor next to his head in a pool. With a scowl, he pushed himself up with one hand and pressed the other against his nose, trying in vain to stop the bleeding. Without a single word to the surrounding parties, he stalked off without a grimace.

After the routine moment of shocked silence, Mila spoke, or shouted, "What the hell was that?" she flung her left arm at the pool of blood Ace had left near their feet.

"A Portgas D. Ace"

"Well no duh," she frowned, "But why was he flying through a wall, and more importantly, why is he aboard the Moby Dick, alive?" she emphasized the word alive. Though he didn't look like it. From the brief look Mila had caught of him, he was beaten to a bloody pulp.

"Well," Thatch started hesitantly, not sure how the story would please his already upset little sister. He looked to his brothers sitting around the table in his time of crisis. Kingdew spoke first.

"It's a great story, right Thatch?" he gave his drowning brother a giant pat on the back and threw him to the wolves. Also known as Mila.

"Really," she hissed under her breath, she propped her elbows on the table while cradling her face in her hands, steading her gaze so she could look straight into his eyes. "Please, do tell," Anyone a mile away could feel the venom in her voice.

"Okay," he took a deep breath, preparing to spit it all out in one go, "You're gonna get the short version, got it?" he didn't wait for the reply, "So we get to Jinbei right? And well both he and Ace are KOed, like majorly. So then Ace wakes up, and he and Pops fight, Pops wins, cause duh. But then he throws us a curve ball and asks Ace to become his son. Ace's exact words I believe were 'screw you!', then he passed out. That was a few weeks ago. Since then he's been living on board." He pulled at his collar nervously. He didn't even get to the bad part and Mila's gaze could whither flowers.

"I think you're forgetting something Thatch," Fossa commented from behind his cards.

"Oh, you mean the part where Ace has tried to kill Pops every day since then? That's what Thatch is missing." Jozu supplied calmly. Taking pleasure in watching Mila puff up like a bird.

"Oh, yeah that's what I was missing. Thanks Jozu!" Thatch said, sarcasm oozed from his voice.

Mila flew up, rattling the table on her way up. She turned on a dime and stalked towards where Ace had disappeared. "Where are you going Mila?" Thatch yelled after her retreating figure, his voice tired and deflated.

"Oh Thatch, I'm going to beat the shit out of that little fucker." Her tiny blue sandals flipped to the rhythm of her feet as she left a trail of fury in her wake.


	31. Chapter 30

**(A/N) **Chapter 30! Wow, when did that happen, I can still remember when I first though of Mila, oh the days. A big thank you goes out to anyone who ever favorited or followed or reviewed on blinking Child! But really, thank you, you guys help make Mila and her adventures possible. It might be a simple review or just a favorite, but it always motivates me to write more. One last time, thank you for the 66 reviews, thank you for the 76 favorites, thank you for the 112 follows, thank you for the 17,495 views, and finally, thank you for reading! Now go read the chapter you crazy kids(and adults)!

LB

Chapter 30

Mila POV

After a traumatic event, the therapist you're forced to go see afterward would probably ask you what was going through your head during said traumatic event. And if I had to answer that vapid question at the moment, I would tell the fifty cent per hour therapist that the words 'little fucker' were running through my head rampant like a high hamster on a wheel.

_That little fucker must die._

_How dare that little fucker be on my ship?_

_I'm gonna kill the little fucker._

_That little fucker wants to kill dad._

_Not before I eradicate that little fucker._

_I should write a poem about the little fucker._

Sure, Ace was four years older than me, but that still made him a little fucker. Right now he might be a sneaky little fucker, because for the life of me, I couldn't find him. I had started by following the trail of blood he left in his wake, which had been going strong, till it disappeared. So either he managed to stop the bleeding, or spontaneously combusted and died a horrible death, I was hoping it was option number two. But the lack of scorch problems proved my theory wrong.

I didn't think it would be this hard to find someone on the Moby Dick, after all, I was the master of division hide and seek. And even when not playing, I could always find everyone, I could always predict where my brothers would be on the ship. Rakuyo in his office, Atmos in the armory, Dom in the kitchen, Jim in the medical wing, Marco by dad, dad in the few chairs that could fit him. I knew everyone on the ship like the back of my hand, but not that little fucker. And what's even worse, is he didn't belong anywhere, so there was nowhere to start looking. If Rakuyo wasn't in his office, he would be in the crow's nest checking our course, if Atmos wasn't in the armory, he was on the sparring deck. If all failed, check the dining hall, because if anything, all my brothers had an appetite. That was an idea. The little fucker was a D, and they were notorious for their appetites. Dining hall it was then.

I decided to trek down there without using my devil fruit, just in case I missed the little fucker. As I made my way closer to the dining hall, my brothers all yelled their greeting towards me, welcoming me back. I swear each time I go out, they don't think I'll ever come back. Like anything could keep me away from this ship.

Inside the dining hall, filling the long tables overflowing the hall, was Marco and Vista. Boys and their food. I made my way over to their table as I simultaneously searched the heads looking for the little fucker. Twisting my mouth into a grimace, I gathered that he wasn't there among the other men. My mood taking a turn for Even Worst Street, I stomped towards Marco and Vista with more gusto then intended.

"Hello Mila, welcome back!" Vista greeted, his voice booming throughout the hall.

I slumped into the empty place next to Marco on the bench, "Hey Vista, Marco." I dropped my chin into my palms, eyebrows scrunched uncomfortably.

"Ah, what's on your mind Mila?" Marco asked, turning his head away from his plate to look me straight on.

"The little fucker," I mumbled. At Vista and Marco's confused expressions and raised eyebrows, I elaborated, "Portgas D. Ace."

Vista nodded understandably, "So you heard about Pop's new addition to the family."

Whipping my head around to glare at him, I shot daggers at him, "He is not part of my family. Sons usually don't try and kill their fathers last time I checked."

"I killed my father." Vista commented causally as he nibbled on his meat. I stared at him, dumbfounded momentarily, Marco simply shrugged. Vista caught my stare and paused mid nibble, "What I'd say?"

"So why are you upset over Ace?" Marco asked, strategically avoiding Vista's earlier comment.

"I'm looking for him, and I can't seem to find him anywhere." I glanced over the fact that I wanted to cause him extreme bodily harm.

"That seems to be a talent of his," Marco agreed, "Everyday he'll attempt to kill pops, and then after failing, he'll disappear. But it does seem like he has narcolepsy, so occasionally someone will trip over his body." Narcolepsy, a chronic brain disorder that involves poor control of sleep-wake cycles. People with narcolepsy experience periods of extreme daytime sleepiness and sudden, irresistible bouts of sleep that can strike at any time. These "sleep attacks" usually last a few seconds to several minutes. Very interesting, very interesting indeed.

This perked me up a bit, just a bit though. I popped up from my seat and casted Marco and Vista a grin, "Thanks, I'll see you later!" Time to catch the little fucker.

Third POV

"Have you guys noticed the lack of Mila lately?" Haruta commented as he leaned against the railing next to Thatch, Marco and Namur as the sported their individual cups of coffee in their personalized mugs early one morning.

"She has been acting strangely. . ." Mused Namur as he took a sip of his black coffee.

"It's because of Ace," Marco interjected, causally stirring the cream in his coffee, "She's determined to find him." He shook his head sadly, "Poor kid will never see her coming."

"But does that give an excuse to blink on my head and run off?" Namur complained, absently rubbing his head, "she messed up my hair."

"She blinked onto my desk yesterday with a vat of ketchup. She ended up ruining my paperwork before she disappeared again." Marco remarked, sounding practically upset since he had to redo everything.

Namur gasped, his eyes lighting up with mischief as a realization hit him, "It couldn't be. . ."

Haruta leaned in, naturally curious, "What, what couldn't it be?" he bounced up and down excitedly, Haruta didn't need coffee in the morning, he was a natural energy hub.

"It could be," Namur lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned closer to Haruta, "the bitch switch!" Haruta gasped dramatically at the notion of such a thing.

"Or it could be her hormones?" Marco observed while rolling his eyes at the mention of the bitch switch, a theory he always thought was ridiculous.

Thatch dropped his heavily sugared coffee and dove to the floor into the fetal position the instant their sister's hormones were mentioned. He still had nightmares of the last time he brought up her female body parts. He shivered at he thought. After a beat of silence, Thatch cautiously peeked out from under his arms, "Is the coast clear?" he whispered, still paralyzed in fear of an impending Mila attack.

"Yeah Thatch, the coast is clear of tiny fourteen year old girls." Marco smirked as he joked at his brother's expense.

Thatch gingerly rose, keeping a careful eye out for any blue haired girls. "It's not funny," Thatch pouted, shooting a scowl towards Namur and Haruta, who thought otherwise and were snorting, "I can still feel those books. . ." Thatch said, looking haunted at the horrid thought of books.

The other three thought the experience extremely amusing as they teased their brother incessantly. But while they continued their torment, off lingering in a nearby stairwell was none other than Fire Fist Ace. Finally, he thought, someone willing to fight him. If this 'Mila' was looking for him, he would make it easier for her. She wouldn't know what hit her.

"Pardon the intrusion, but do you happen to be Mila?" Ace called down from the roof where he was balanced on his heels, hands draped across his knees as he tried to suppress a smirk from flitting across his face at the girl's shocked expression. It hadn't taken long to figure out who 'Mila' was, she was the only female aboard, and hard to miss. Her stormy blue hair that fell past her shoulder and her sharp green eyes screamed out like a beacon on the ship. He thought he had imagined the flashes of blue while sneaking through the ship, but she had been indeed stalking her. How could the commander of the first division think she was a threat? For grand line sake, she was wearing purple polka dot shorts!

Her shocked expression soon dissolved into a form of hatred. She was not happy to see him in the least. "I'm Mila," she popped her right hand onto her hip, "I don't know how you would know that though. I tend to be very discreet in matters outside of this ship, so who's saying what about me?" her voice held a clam malevolence within it.

"I heard you were looking for me," he cracked a half smile, taunting her, "and not in the good way."

"No," she returned his smile with an equally mischievous smirk, "not in the good way." She flipped a piece of her stormy hair with an aloof air surrounding her, "my brothers can be such little gossips, but I guess in this case, it worked in my favor."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow, "And whys that, Tater Tot?"

Her clam façade twisted for a second at the mention of the delicious potato snack as a reference to her stature, she quickly recovered and pulled a pair of tonfa from behind her back and moved into a boxing position, her weapons raised at the ready, "Because it saved me the effort of finding you before I kick your ass."

Before she had the chance to attack him first, he launched himself at her, fist raised and flames trailing. Ace would end this before it ever began. She was prepared for his bout of spontaneity though, she was ready to catch his fist with one of her tonfa. She used his own strength against him and redirecting his punch so he stumbled past her. She spun on a dime, her hair brushing his check ever so slightly, but he could clearly smell the burnt ends as they whirled past him. Mila brought her tonfa down in his spine as he fell using the momentum she gained from her pirouette. Ace didn't bother dodging the swing as he fell, it would go right through his flame body anyway. To his astonishment, it didn't, it sent him hard into the ground.

Ace's body landed with a sickening crunch on the deck floor. He heard her smug laugh at his grunt, "You didn't think this was my first time to the rodeo?" When Ace regained his strength to crane his neck to glare up at the girl, he glimpsed a glint from her tonfa. They were not entirely made of wood, on each one, a slim metal band encircled the width.

"Sea prism stone?" he frowned, "That's not a nice trick Tater Tot." he forced himself up, suppressing the grimace brought on from the pain radiating from his back. The sea prism stone had hit a nerve, literally. How had she know where that was, it wasn't like the placement of the spinal columns were common knowledge.

"You'll soon figure out that I don't play nice with others," she tightened her grip, a viscous expression dominated her face, "especially some errant rampaging on my ship."

Ace steadied himself on his feet, planting himself firmly in place. He raised his flaming fists in a threatening stance. "Bring it on Tater Tot." He wasn't going down that easily again.

And she was planning on it, her muscles tensed and ready to hurl herself at him, but the booming voice of her father shocked the two out of their battle enraged states. "Mila!" Whitebeard had snuck up on the two's battle silently, Thatch and Marco slinking quietly after him. "The brat is under my protection."

She didn't loosen up in the looming shadow of Whitebeard, her manner remained brazenly aggressive, "I know that! But why?" she yelled, her grip whitening, "he's trying to kill you! Do you except me to just sit back and relax while he tries to murder the only father I've ever known? I don't get it," she whispered, whipping her gaze away, "I don't get how everyone is so okay with the thought of you dying." Her voice was filled with an unbearable sadness, she was barely able to choke it out.

"Nothing will happen to me child." Whitebeard assured her, his tone soft and comforting, "trust me."

Mila twisted away from him, as if his comforting words stung, "Whatever. I won't kill him, happy?"

"I don't think happy is the appropriate choice of words." Thatch mumbled as he shrugged an arm over Ace's shoulder. He had soundlessly slinked behind Ace as he watched the Whitebeard family drama unfold. Ace jerked his head up at the sound of Thatch's voice in his ear. When he jerked his gaze back towards Mila, she was gone. No sound of her retreating footsteps or anything. She was simply no longer there.

Thatch laughed as Ace swiveled his head back and forth as he looked for the stormy haired girl, "You survived your first Mila encounter, eh Rookie? How do you feel?"

"Flummoxed." Ace mumbled, not meaning to answer Thatch's question, but it was current state of mind at the moment.

"To be expected," Thatch nodded, "and she wasn't even using her devil fruit, everything becomes much more confusing when she starts using that."

Ace's eyebrows shoot up, "She ate a devil-"

"Ace" Whitebeard interrupted, his voice very different from the one he had used with Mila. It now had an uncanny hardness, "You may make an attempt on my life as much as you want, but if you ever attack one of my sons or my daughter again," Ace could feel Whitebeard's unnaturally potent power weigh down on his shoulder, "I will show no mercy." Without another word, Whitebeard retreated, leaving Ace alone with a Thatch hooked around his shoulders, but Ace couldn't bother to move him, he was frozen in fear.

After a moment of heavy silence, Marco said something for the first time, "You should get your back realigned. It'll hurt even more if you don't do anything." He turned and followed the sound of Whitebeards retreating footsteps.

Thatch gave Ace a firm pat on the back, making him finch, before releasing him. "Marcos right, Mila used one nasty trick on you. You should feel special though, she only uses it on people she really hates." Thatch winked at him before rushing off after Marco, leaving Ace feeling usually empty, the pit that had always been filled with hate was now desolate. How could he had thought that he could battle Whitebeard or his crew? They were all monsters.


	32. Chapter 31

**(A/N) **Long chapter~

Chapter 31

Third POV

"We're not doing this again, Thatch. I swear," Blenheim shook his head, at his brother "after losing so much money, I would think you would learn you lesson." Blenheim sat in front of a stack of money, operating his underground betting system on the main deck under the cloudless sky. Today, everyone was taking bet on their fiery guest and his fruitless efforts against assassinating their captain. Right in front of Whitebeard himself. He was relaxing in his giant chair on the main deck, watching their gambling ring with an amused grin spread under his mustache.

"Come on!" Thatch whined, "I have a good feeling about this!"

"You have a good feeling about strangulation and death by nun chucks?" Blenheim said, not sounding convinced. "I'm not letting you waste your money again."

"Blenheim~!" Thatch moaned loud enough for Mila to hear from up in the crow's nest.

She rubbed her temples, annoyed. Everyone else on the ship thought of Ace as a joke or as a source of entertainment. It irked her to no extent. And since she promised not to kill him, she avoided him at all costs, or anything having to do with him. But no one ever stopped talking about him. She's been basically living in the crow's nest since then. Her books and notebooks were piled up around her, a single pillow supporting her back. She was trying to restrain herself from intervening in Thatch's antics, but failing miserably. Beside her better judgment, Mila ripped a scrap of paper out from one of her navigation notebooks and scribbled a few things on it with a pencil that had been tucked behind her ear. She folded the piece of paper gently then brushed her fingers over it and blinked it down into Thatch's lap.

Mila knew he had received her note by his triumphant cry that echoed up to her. "I'm placing all my money on death by axe!"

"Really Thatch?" he asked skeptically, "Have you ever heard of the saying, never put all your egg in one basket?" He shook his head dumbly as he grinned like an idiot, holding out his wad of cash for Blenheim to add to the pool. Blenheim took it. It'll benefit whoever wins in the end, Blenheim thought. But Mila knew for a fact that she was right. She had been in the armory that morning, checking on a personal project, and had noticed one of Atmos's axes was missing. Only a few could lift such a thing, and from her own personal experience with Ace's annoyingly impressive strength, she knew for a fact that he could easily lift it.

"He's coming!" someone yelled from afar. Out of pure curiosity, Mila looked over the edge of the crow's nest. And sure enough, Ace was charging towards Whitebeard back, battle axe raised and poised to sever his neck. Not even flinching at Ace's horrendous battle call, Whitebeard merely swatted him away without a second thought. Sending him flying over board and into the ocean.

His departure from the boat was met with Thatch's exuberant cheer and everyone else's shocked gaps and complaints that the bet was rigged. Mila smirked to herself, she might have tilted the scales unintentionally. Among the noise, someone mentioned that the idiot flame for brains can't swim. Mila blinked down amid the chaos as Namur dove into the ocean after Ace.

Tackling Mila in a bear hug, Thatch wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up against his chest. He swung her around in a circle like a ragdoll, her limbs swaying limply as she was crushed in his embrace. "Mila you are so amazing!" Thatch sung, hugging her tighter as he jumped up and down with her still entrapped in his embrace, "I'm going to buy you so many books!" Mila tried hard to conceal her smile, but gave in and let Thatch's happiness wash over her. She missed this. Pure happiness. It had seemed harder to obtain with Ace aboard and threatening her father. But here she was, smiling like a fool after Ace had tried to kill Whitebeard. She felt so stupid for being happy.

Interrupting her moment of happiness, the loud wet thud of Ace's body being deposited on the deck woke her up from her happiness high. He flopped helplessly on the deck like a fish out of water. Out of pity, Marco slammed a foot on his chest. Water spurted from Ace's mouth like a fountain. He sprung up into a sitting position, coughing violently as he held his chest.

"It took you long enough." Ace spurted out between his coughs. Mila unwound herself from Thatch as she watched Marco help Ace up with a smile. It's been almost two months since Ace was taken aboard the Moby Dick, and to Mila's discomfort, he was starting to fit in. Not to the point when he was seen more than once or twice a day. But when he did appear, he tended to linger, making a few jokes or polite conversation. It was irksome.

"Sorry," Namur apologized halfheartedly, "We were all frozen in shock when Thatch won the pool today."

"Really?" Ace sounded genuinely surprised.

"You didn't tip him off?" Haruta wandered over, eye brows raised in a suspicious manner. "No sketchy meetings in any dark corridors?" he hummed.

His hands shoot up in defense, "No, nothing of the sort."

"Haruta, aren't you supposed to know everything that goes on in this ship, being the head of the twelfth division and all." Thatch teased, taking pride in his near victory against his brothers.

"In theory, yes. And to be truthful, I do know most everything." Haruta admitted, bobbing his head in agreement, "But even I can't be everywhere at once. But there is someone who comes close." All gazes darted to Mila, who was causally leaning against the mast post, lingering in its shadow. Ace looked confused, not quite getting the comment, but followed their gaze all the same. Mila twisted her mouth into a frown at the sight of Ace. Ace thought of returning the glare, but Mila was the favorite child. Not literally, Whitebeard loved his so called 'sons' all the same. Everyone loved her though. Visibly hating her might not be in his best interest. He broke under her fourteen year old stare and looked away.

"Thatch," Marco treaded carefully as he inched closer to Thatch, who was sweating under the pressure of Marco's gaze, "Did you use Mila as wrongful means to win the bet?"

Sweat poured down his neck as Thatch slowly backed away from the looming figures creeping closer to him. "I don't know what you're talking about," he choked out while his voice wobbled, "Right Mila?" Thatch said as he jerked his head toward where Mila had been previously residing by the mast post. She had abandoned her position and disappeared, basically throwing Thatch under the bus. An angry Kingdew hurled himself onto Thatch, pinning him under his weight. "Mila! How could you!" He cried as Kingdew shoved his fist into his hair.

"Where did she go?" Ace questioned as confusion screwed up his feature. Mila kept doing that. Being there one minute and disappearing the next. Ace didn't know if he could chalk it up to her unknown devil fruit or if it was something else entirely.

"Probably back to the crow's nest or her room." Marco remarked causally, shrugging his shoulders as he leaned against the mast post in Mila's place.

"How though?" Ace pushed further.

The surrounding pirates exchanged hesitant looks with one another. Namur spoke first, "it may not be our place to share that information."

"I say spill," Thatch yelled from under Kingdew, "tell him all her secrets. That'll show her!" Kingdew increased his pressure on Thatch's hair at this comment.

"No," Marco said, agreeing with Namur, "If you want to find out, you have to ask Mila herself."

Ace snorted, as if she would actually talk to him. After their bout when he first arrived, she hasn't said a word to him. Always pulling that trick of hers and disappearing. He would find out though, he decided, even if it costs him another aching back.

"So how are things on your end?"

Mila sighed into the transponder snail mouth piece. She and Killian were in the middle of their monthly call, a thing they instigated when they realized that the Moby Dick only visited Fishman Island once or twice a year at most. Mila was lounging out on the navigation deck, the cord to the transponder sail slinking out from a slit in the door leading to the navigation room. "Slow," she admitted, "Painfully so."

"I thought you were pretty deep into the New World, isn't it usually pretty busy around then?" Killian's confusion made its way clearly through the connection.

"It usually is, but with stupid Portgas D. Ace being on the ship, everyone wants to lay low and chill." Mila let her annoyance seep through her voice.

"And you can't go out alone on a mission?"

"No, everyone thinks we're too far from Marineford for me to make the trip alone." She let her head loll backwards and stare at the sun, "I'm not ten anymore, for god sake, I can take care of myself."

"Your brothers have their reasons," Killian soothed, "and they might be right, the New World is dangerous." Mila frowned at his concerned tone, she knew he was only thinking of what's the best for her. It still struck a nerve with her though, she didn't like being told what to do.

"How am I supposed to become the 2nd division commander if they still think of me as a little girl?" She protested.

She heard Killian laugh, "You're fourteen, and you still are a little girl."

Mila shot up, "I am not!" she shrieked into the phone, "And you can't be much older than I am." she objected.

Killian laughed at her reaction, "Sorry, I know. But if you're seriously considering the position what are you doing to prove yourself to your brothers?"

Mila slumped up against herself, "Nothing." She mumbled. And it was the truth. Since she had made her sweeping declaration to her father, she hasn't behaved any differently. Well, if she didn't count avoiding Ace all the time, then nothing has changed.

"Then start. Nothing is going to change if you don't first." He reasoned.

Mila let herself fall back completely, "I hate it when you're right," she sighed.

He chuckled, "I know you do."

Mila laughed, soaking in the sound of Killian's voice as she lazily twisting the cord of the transponder snail around her finger. A bang echoed from the stairs leading up the deck. "Shit, who the fuck leaves books there?" Ace's grunted as his footsteps carried him closer.

Ace lumbered up the stairs to the navigation deck, narrowly escaping with his life due to a close call with a stack of books. The navigation deck tended to be sparsely populated, always a good place to hide out for the day, but he swore he heard voices up there today.

When he finally emerged on the deck though, there was only an abandoned lounge chair and a transponder snail. From the transponder snail, a confused male voice still spoke from it, "Hello? Are you still there? Hello?" it said.

Ace gingerly picked up the mouth piece, not quite sure if he should just leave it or not, "Hello? May I ask who is speaking?" he asked hesitantly.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" the voice remarked.

"My name is Portgas D. Ace." Ace answered out of curtesy.

"Fire Fist Ace? Mila has told me about you." He commented with a sly undertone.

"Tater tot?" Ace asked, taken aback by the mention of the illusive girl, "you know Mila?"

"Of course, we were just talking. I assumed she blinked away somewhere, I wish she wouldn't do that. The least she could do is say good bye."

"Blinked?" Ace repeated, confused on the voice's terminology. "Who is this again?"

"Killian. If Mila left, I should be going. Now Ace, could you tell Mila I said good bye and that I will call her later."

"Okay" Ace wasn't quite sure who this Killian fellow was, but he seemed pleasant enough for being associated with Mila.

There was a pause before Killian said anything else, like he was weighing his words carefully, "And also tell her I said to give him a chance."

"Sure?"

"That's great, thank you. Have a good day, Fire Fist." The transponder gave its signature 'clank' as Killian hung up on the other end of the call.

Snapping her book shut, Mila tossed the finished book in a nearby pile at the bottom of the stairs as she raced up them, not taking a break in her pace. She couldn't quite decide if she wanted to go to the armory and work, or lounge about all day in the crow's nest. Till she decided, she would continue reading while walking around the ship aimlessly. That wasn't getting her very far though. It was almost as productive as loafing around in the crow's nest.

"Tater tot!" Ace's voice crashed in on Mila's blissfully relaxed mood. She whipped around to glare at the boy before tensing to blink to the crow's nest. It was decided, she was going to hide up there till someone broke down and killed Ace. "Wait, Mila!" He actually used her name, this caused her to pause long enough to raise an intrigued eyebrow. "I have a message for you."

She eased her body around till it faced him, curiosity kept her eyebrow raised. "From who, exactly?"

"I think he said his name was Killian." Mila mentally cursed herself at the mention of Killian. He was probably upset at her for not saying goodbye before leaving. Or maybe just leaving him hanging there altogether. When she didn't say anything, he went on, "He said to tell you goodbye and that he'll call you later, and. . ." he hesitated before finishing, his eyes darting away nervously.

"Spit it out." Mila demanded, her paper thin patience burning even thinner for the flames for brains.

"He also said to give him a chance."

She snorted, looking him up and down with a critical eye, "That won't be happening anytime soon." She was done with Ace and his messages from Killian. Before Mila even had the preconception of blinking away to sulk with herself and a good book for a long while, Ace blurted out a question.

"What's your devil fruit?"

"Excuse me?" Mila asked, more surprised by the question then annoyed.

Shifting from foot to foot, Ace asked again, "What's your devil fruit."

She shook her head at the audacity of his question, "Why in the ever loving world would I ever tell you? What is there for me to gain by telling some nosey little fucker my most powerful weapon?" She said threatening, inching closer to him with eyes hooded in rage.

"So it's an offensive power?" he edged. Clearly not picking up the hostile vibes Mila was emitting from her whole body.

Along with her eyes, she rolled her whole headed back in exasperation. "Why do you even want to know?"

"Curiosity." He said simply.

"Curiosity killed the cat." Mila crept closer to him.

"But satisfaction brought it back." Ace countered, matching her distance.

A mischievous smile slide its way across Mila's face as an idea flittered through her mind. "Okay, you want to know?" he nodded eagerly, evidently not picking up on her malicious intentions. "I ate the Mabataki Mabataki no mi."

"The blink blink fruit?" he repeated.

"Yes. It gives me the ability to teleport in the blink of an eye." Mila watched Ace's expression carefully as she continued. "It also allows me to memorize anything with in an instant. And you want to know how I utilize this power," she didn't wait for his answer as her voice grew low and threatening, "I sneak into Marineford and memorize their documents. Every. Single. One. I know everything about everyone." She closed the distance between them and jabbed a finger in Ace's chest, "Including you, Gol D. Ace."

In an instant, faster than she could possibly blink, Mila was no longer on her feet. She was being pinned against the wall of a cabin by Ace's large hand wrapped around her thin neck. She kicked her feet uselessly as she tried to claw his hand away from her neck. His flame body heated as his breathing became heavy and enraged. "That's not me." he whispered pitifully, his eyes glazed over as if he was submerged in deep thought. Mila slapped his forearm as her head started to become light and her vision unfocused. She was too scattered to try and blink, she was too scattered to do anything but try and breathe under the death hold Ace had on her. "That's not me!" he screamed, his hold increasing with his voice. Air became a foreign concept to her as clung to his forearm.

"Ace," Mila struggled to rasp out against his hold, "_Ace!"_

At the sound of Mila's rasping voice saying his name, Ace's eye became focused once more and realized what he was doing. He jumped away from her, releasing her neck as well. He retreated, holding his hand as if he had been the one burned. But in reality, it had been Mila. Her neck felt like it was on fire as she sucked in deep breath after deep breath. Her sight began to clear as she saw Ace trembling, slowly backing away from her until bumping into the railing. He looked mortified by what he had just done. His face encased in shock.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, barely audible over the pounding steps closing in on the two. He shook his head, "I'm sorry." Ace muttered again. He took one last look at Mila folded on the ground before darting away and leaving Mila alone, her own hands clinging to her brunt neck.


	33. Chapter 32

**(A/N)** I wrote this chapter ahead of time, so I'm probably in Tennessee for my mission trip right now when this chapter is uploaded. This chapter is kinda set up weirdly, there's a tiny time gap in the middle, and I think I say it's like three weeks. But in the past three chapter or whatever it is, 100-ish days have passed, which is how long it took for Ace to officially join the crew. So basically, Chapter 33 is the awaited chapter when Ace becomes a Whitebeard Pirate. Then chapter 34 is when a new arc starts, and we finish all this filler crap. So, that's basically the plan I have set up so far, now you have something to look forward to.

LB

Chapter 32

Third POV

Mila scratched at her neck irritably as she sat in the crow's nest during the midnight watch. Her old turtle neck crop top she had dug out of her closet from ages ago was rubbing the bandages wrapped around her neck in the most uncomfortable way possible. The coarse yarn wasn't helping either. Ace had done quite a number on her neck three days ago. After he had ran from the scene, Mila's brothers had stormed the scene to find an empty corridor. She didn't know why she had blinked away, it should have been easy for Mila to throw Ace under the bus for what he did to her. She hated him plenty, it would be an easy solution to the Moby Dick's pest problem. If Whitebeard didn't kill him, one of her brothers surely would have after hearing what he did. Instead, Mila blinked to her room and used some of her medical herbs growing on her windowsill on the burn and swathed it in bandages and pulled on her old turtle necks from a winter island they had visited last year. She wasn't able to talk to anyone for a while either, her voice was scratchy and bristly. Apparently that happens after your neck has the air wringed out of it. Hiding in the crow's nest was her only option after that.

From up in her cozy basket, Mila could clearly hear all the news floating around about Ace. Since he attacked her, his attempts on Whitebeard's have become half-hearted and unmotivated. Ace himself had become a shadow of himself in the view of Mila's brothers. He no longer lingered or joked, merely disappeared into the shadows as he did before. That didn't satisfy Mila either.

Mila hugged herself in the chill of the night, running her hands up her arms in a frantic attempt at restoring some heat. She should have brought a blanket with her. She may have felt partly responsible for Ace's current state. She shouldn't have taunted him the way she did, it had struck a nerve as intended, but a tad to sharply then envisioned. How else was he supposed to act? Mila had basically threatened him with his own name. It might have been a flawed plan.

The sound of the rope ladder leading to the crow's nest banging against the mast post travelled up to Mila. She used her left hand to help herself up into a more vertical position and hastily straightened her collar, just in case. The bright orange of Ace's cowboy hat was the first thing to appear. He slowly ascended till he was standing on the very edge of the crow's nest, looming over a sagging Mila. The effort it would take for Mila to push herself up leaked from her body at the sight of Ace.

"We need to talk." He said. Mila might have detected a nervous tic in his voice, but it was drowned out by the waves of the ocean hitting the hull off the boat.

"Talk." She repeated, not as a question, just reaffirming the fact.

He examined her carefully, trying to gauge her emptions as he hesitantly climbed into the crow's nest with her, keeping to the opposite side as much as possible. Mila kept her face as impassive as possible, refusing to reveal anything to him. "It's about the other day." His eyes flickered to her turtle neck, "I hadn't meant to hurt you, and it was just a natural reaction." She raised a bored eyebrow, not interested in his apology in the slightest. He gulped nervously, his adam apple bobbing uneasily. "Did you tell anyone?" he whispered his question as he glance away from Mila's hard stare.

"If I had, you'd be dead." She replied flatly, mustering up a façade of confidence.

His gaze flipped back towards her, "Not about me trying- about me attacking you. About who I really am." He asked hesitantly.

She studied his anxious expression, trying to figure him out. Why would he be concerned about that? If the world knew of his real linage, everyone would either fear him or worship him. Sure, the whole government would want him dead too. It would also give him inherited power. So why was he so worried about it. "No." she finally said.

He let out a relived sign, he had been holding his breath waiting for her answer. Mila let her face screw up in confusion. Ace looked like a weight was lifted off his shoulders, but she was still befuddled on the why of the matter. "And if I did. . . Why would it matter?" She hissed it out with more venom then intended. She didn't like that he got to look so carefree while she was starting to get wrinkles between the furrows of her eyebrows.

He let his relaxed composure waver a second as he answered her question. "It changes how people see me." he decided to reply, his own furrow growing, "They think that my father effects who I am, that it makes me the devil he was."

"And he doesn't."

"No." he said defiantly.

Mila let his proclamation sink in. Never knowing her parents, she never had to live in anyone's shadow. She had always been just Mila and had her own choices. Even Mrs. Lynn had never really cared about what Mila did, as long as she never left the island. She had no outer influences. Ace was the last living relic of his father, the Pirate King. If those weren't big shoes to fill then Mila was kidding herself. Killing the strongest man alive would certainly make a point though. "Okay Ace," Mila let her furrow even out to give her the expressionless look she was striving for, "I won't tell anyone your dirty little secret."

"That's it, nothing else? No strings attached?" he asked, equally eager as he was apprehensive.

"No," she continued, "you didn't let me finish. With this promise comes with a connected favor. I don't need anything now," she leaning back and twirling a piece of hair, "but I can ask for anything at any time, and you have to fulfill my request at any cause."

Ace looked Mila straight in her calculating green eyes, trying to shift out her plan from a single stare. "Okay." He said, making his decision, "it's a deal." They sealed the deal with a firm shake. The only contact they had ever that wasn't destructive to one another.

~ **(A/N)** weird time gap thingie

"Come on you candy-asses, who's going to tempt my strength next!" Ace roared from the other end of the dining table where Mila sat one morning, minding her own business as she munched on her favorite cereal and breezed through her book. Her numskulls of brothers had naively challenged Ace to an arm wrestling contest that morning over a cup of coffee. It had started with Haruta having his ass whooped, to every other crew member lining up to have their chance at the undefeated Ace. Mila could easily tell when one of her brothers were beaten by the telltale shake of the table that vibrated though her cereal bowl.

"Come on! Give me a real challenge!" Ace bellowed again, eager to prove himself once again. After a certain midnight chat three weeks ago, Ace had been in high spirits. His attacks on Whitebeard escalating in complexity and vigor. Raising the stakes in the ongoing betting pool, one which Thatch had been banned from, all the more higher. "What about you Tater Tot?" Ace egged her on with a humorous tone. Mila and Ace were no longer at each other's throat in a literal sense, now just a verbal battle existed between them. It would be too farfetched to call it a friendship, but there was a sort of mutual upstanding between the two. But between those two, even verbal arguments got intense. "You claim to be a big bad pirate, why don't you come down and show me." Ace leered down at her. She hide her smirk behind her book, it had started.

Mila allowed herself to blink into the lap of the person across from Ace, who happened to be Speed Jiru. He quickly readjusted her off his lap and slid off to the side, all while not disturbing the stare Mila was holding with Ace. "I may not be big, but I will accept that I am bad." She smirked at him, looking up at him though her eyelashes.

Ace let her attempt at taunting him roll off him without a single glance. "Then prove it," he leaned forward over the table, "Or are you scared to lose Tater Tot?" A chorus of ohhhhs was echoed throughout the hall by Mila's brothers.

Letting loose a low chuckle, Mila brought down her left elbow onto the table top, hand at the ready. "The least I have to worry about is a boy with flames for brains." Mila said with a quirked eyebrow.

"Burn~" Haruta hissed from behind Ace.

Ace glared up at Haruta over his shoulder, "You won't be so cocky when I wipe the floor with you." Ace countered, keeping his confidence fixed as he steadied his gaze.

Cocking her head to the side, Mila let a half smile let slip, "Better put your muscles where your mouth is before everyone thinks that head of yours is just for decoration." They were getting nasty, a group gathered around the two, more interested in who would win the verbal battle than the arm wrestling.

In response to Mila's taunt, Ace propped up his own elbow, his right elbow. It took a second of silence before they realized the problem. "What are you doing?" Ace said angrily, "you're supposed to use your right hand, not your left."

Keeping her left elbow firmly planted on the tabletop, she shrugged, "I don't fight with my right hand."

Ace glared at her, "I've watched you, and I've noticed that you're ambidextrous."

"What a big word for a person with flames for brains."

"I'm not as vapid as you make me out to be Tater Tot." Ace challenged, "And ambidextrous is a common enough term." But even as Ace said this, Haruta exchanged an equally confused stare with Kingdew.

"Well it doesn't matter how thick I think you are, it doesn't change the fact I don't use my right arm." Her face refused to be shaken from it's eerily clam state. Ace, on the other hand, was only getting more frustrated with each passing second. The crew members around them shifted uncomfortably. They knew why Mila didn't use her right arm anymore, the most she did with it nowadays was to hold her books or to use it to eat. Ace couldn't sense the uneasy shift in the room, but he knew Mila was hiding something.

"And why not?"

"You really want to dig into my personal life again Fire Fist?" Mila said, "I happen to recall a bad outcome the last time you did." She absently scratched her healed neck. It had healed enough that Mila could ditch the turtle necks a few days ago.

"I doubt we'll have a repeat of that incident." Ace said after a visible flinch. The spectators around them were clueless on what they were now talking about.

Mila's eyes looked flat as she painted a sad, humorless smile on her otherwise impassive face, "Then I have no other choice but to show you why I don't use my right arm."

A stiff silence blanketed the dining hall, even the people not part of the thick crowd surrounding the twosome. People exchanged glances, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. Not many people talked about what happened in Etoile, Mila bringing it up in front of Ace was uncomfortable for everyone. Haruta awkwardly coughed into his hand, he purposefully directed his gaze away from the table, "Um, I think Thatch was planning on putting peanut butter in everyone's bunks right about now." His job was supposed to distract the crew from this fact, but was willing to put Thatch's ass on the line for the sake of sheer awkwardness.

After brief displeased mumblings and shrieks from the few members allergic to peanut butter, the crowd scattered. Mila and Ace were left with a looming topic hanging like a guillotine over their heads. "So are you interested or not?" Mila probed mildly.

Ace hesitated, judging by everyone's reaction, knowing might not be a good thing. "Yes?"

Shrugging, looking bored and a bit uninterested in the topic, Mila laid her right arm down, her elbow face the table. To be found in the same place it had been for four years, two angry stars stared up at Ace and Mila. The scars were deep, the muscles and tendons never fully growing back after healing, Mila still had the habit of tracing the stars and running the fingers inside it when dazed or deep in thought. Its red angry color had never faded completely, it only ever melded into a deep reddish brown. The stars were sensitive, making it hard to wear sleeves that fell past her elbows. It could never rest in one position for too long, or her joints would lock up. Her brace hadn't seen the light of day in months. Due to her aches and cramps, she liked to wear her sling in her room, when she was alone. She still saw it as a sign of weakness. The stars though, they fueled her. Every time she saw them, it reminded her of that complete feeling of utter weakness, the moment where she could do nothing but bleed in an alley. Ace now only looked horrified.

Mila could only imagine what Ace could be thinking. It was ugly. It was vile looking. Mila could still remember the smell of her own burning flesh. It held importance to her, but to Ace? A near complete stranger? They were just off-setting scars.

"Burned almost entirely through the tendon. I had a devastating fever afterwards, I was completely delusional, hallucinations and everything. The whole nine yards. My arm was practically useless for a year, I wore a brace up and till a few months ago. I never completely healed." Mila lazily tapped her finger tips along the stars, sending dull spikes of pain up and down her arm. "That's why I don't use my right arm."

Ace let his eyes get lost in the stars burned into Mila. The trench in between Ace's eyebrow intensified, his thought running rampant behind his eyes. Under his hefty stare, Mila retracted her arm and pulled it against herself. Instead of a penny, Mila would pay a chest of gold to figure out what Ace was thinking. It felt as if his thoughts were weighing down on her, very slowly, and very heavily. It was discomforting to say the least.

Straightening suddenly, Ace jerked his gaze up to Mila's face. He had made a resolution by the look within his eyes. He clumsily shredding his yellow colored shirt, the one he hadn't seemed to remove since his arrival. He laid it out on the empty seat next to him, revealing his upper arms. On his left arm was a tattoo Mila had never seen before. It was his name, but before the C, there was a crossed out S. Mila didn't quite get why he was showing it to her, not in the very least. "So," Mila hesitated, "you don't know how to spell your own name?"

Ace let out a dry, dull chuckle, "No." he said, "The S stands for one of my brothers, Sabo. Him, my other brother and I, we all wanted to be pirates one day." He met her gaze, "Sabo died before he had the chance. This way, I could take him with me, in a sense. We all are carrying something, or someone, with us. So I get it." he said awkwardly, like the words would have sounded better in his head than they did aloud, "I get it."

**(A/N) **Kind of pointless ending. Sorry Ace didn't get the shit bear out of him! I know some of you guys were looking forward to it from the reviews you left. Don't worry, he'll get his ass kicked again some day.


	34. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Ace POV

Living aboard the Moby Dick, I had woken up to more than a few strange occurrences. I still claimed the storage closet I had first woken up in as my room, it was right off the main deck, shoved in the corridor just to the left. And since all the happenings worth happening happened on the main deck, I had prime real-estate. Well, at least that's how some people looked at it. One fateful morning, I woken up to water flowing in through the crack under my door. Before my panic had reached a startling height, my innate fear of drowning causing my heart rate to rise, I realized the water wasn't even water. It was sticky and thicker than water, and brown. It seemed that Thatch and Haruta poured vats of syrup onto the main deck. And of course, there was the first day I arrived, Haruta had accidently set off a jelly bomb, one which he and Thatch were supposed to wait for Mila to set off. The bombs intended target had been the mess hall, not the main deck, but due to some flaws in its design, it went off prematurely. Which made more than a few people more than upset.

This morning though, I awoke to giggles and heavy stomps. Giggles were never good, maybe a chuckle or laugh here and there, but giggles meant impending doom. Half awake, I stumbled out my door, preparing for the worse. Outside, crew members of the Moby Dick were rushing around left and right, in bathing suits. Nudity was common enough, but swim suits were barely seen. If you're floating in the middle of the new world sea, you don't exactly want to jump in and take a dip. But as I made my way further out onto the main deck, I saw no one without a swimming suit. No one paused to stay in one place for too long, beach balls and large umbrellas were flying left and right. I ran my hand through my hair confused, trying to wrap my mind around what was happening.

"Ah, good morning Ace," I turned toward the voice coming up behind me, "You're up early, aren't you?" Izo was ambling towards my, dressed in one of those retro swimming suits that came to the knee and the elbow, blue and white strips ran across it horizontally. No formal kimono to be found, and the only thing adoring his face was a thick cover of sunscreen. A large floppy hat topped off his ensemble.

"Oh, uh hi Izo, yeah, I heard everyone out here." I hadn't realized how early it was till I saw the sun breeching the surface of the ocean's horizon. It was barley dawn. "What is going on?" I asked as my head darted side to side.

"It's beach day." Izo explained excitedly, "The Whitebeard Pirates one day of vacation. Everyone drops what they're doing to come meet up at one of our territories, a summer island. Then we have a day at the beach, work free. We can even cajole some of our allies to join in too. No one misses it."

"That includes you. No assassination attempts today." Mila came sauntering up behind Izo, a smirk hidden under a giant floppy hat that matched Izo's to the point. She was following the same dress code as the rest of her crew, a tiny green bikini her choice of bathing suit. Little ruffles lined the bottom piece. "This is the only day that we don't fight or work or do anything that requires effort. And those pathetic little assassination attempts would just ruin the mood of our little vacation. We wouldn't want you to interrupt our beach day."

I frowned at her, "Since when have I taken orders from you?"

"It's true." Izo admitted, nodding along with Mila, "This is a day of rest. But if you do wish to continue you streak, we'll be forced to restrain you. Then you won't be able to go the beach with us, which would be a shame."

I hesitated, I wasn't completely sure if I had comprehended his words correctly or not, "I'm supposed to come?"

Mila rolled her eyes extravagantly, "God, you're thick aren't you? Of course you're coming." She twisted on her bare feet as she recited her pert comment.

Was I? Because I had no idea what I was supposed to get. Even though it seemed obvious to Mila. Was it really that awful to think that they wouldn't want me to with them? I was the supposed enemy after all. I was pretty sure that Mila still hated me, or at least resented me, even though she could still speak full sentences without glaring at me.

"You should get changed," Izo commented, "if you don't have a bathing suit, which I doubt you do, go steal one from Thatch, he won't mind." He turned away from me, heading towards the too playful giggles I had woken up to, straightening on of his sleeves absently, "Then you can help load some of the supplies for our beach day."

"Uh, okay." I mumbled while nodding. I knew I shouldn't take orders from the Whitebeards, they weren't my crew and I had no obligation towards them what so ever. But somehow I still felt obliged to listen. I backed back into my storage room.

"Mila!" Blenheim called from down the beach, his hand cuffed around his mouth to project his voice to where Mila stood, "We forgot Pops' umbrella! Can you go grab it from the ship?"

Instead of replying, Mila just made a giant O with her arms, a smile lit up her face. Ever since docking on the beach, Mila was nothing but smiles, even when talking to me. She blinked away from the beach, off to her errand on the ship, which was still anchored a little ways off from the shore. Sitting on the horizon was a battalion of ships. Every one of Whitebeards ships were docked there for their annual beach day, along with some of their close allied crews. That which included Whitey Bay and her crew and Jinbe the Warlord. I had never seen such a relaxed, but utterly threatening sight all rolled up in one. Jinbe, the fearsome fishman Warlord, was lounging next to Namur in swim trunks, chatting in low tones. And Whitey Bay in a bikini, that was a sight to behold. There was no doubt about it, I was witnessing a strange sight. Especially with Whitebeard propped up in his giant lounge chair planted firmly in the sand. He was also in swim trucks.

Landing with a solid thud, Mila appeared, abnormally sized beach umbrella in hand. It was about six times as tall as the fourteen year old girl, I could not fathom how she managed such a thing. I've wanted to ask about her devil fruit's limitations, but due to their last conversation about it, it didn't seem the right thing to ask. From what I've seen though, she can teleport cannons and such across the ship with ease. Distance never seemed to be a problem either. But now her elusive powers were being used to blink Whitebeard's beach equipment from the depths of storage to the beach.

"Got it!' Mila yelled triumphantly, patting the giant red and white stripped umbrella affectionately, "All that's left to do is to set it up now." she sent a smirk up at Whitebeard, "But that job might be a tad too much for me to do alone."

Whitebeard let out a low chuckle, "We all have our faults, and just be glad yours lies with beach umbrellas."

She shrugged, her smile still dancing on her face, "Very true dad, I'll leave it to the big boys then." She then proceeded to blink into her own, smaller lounge chair, situated closely to Whitebeard's own chair. Her chair was strategically placed in his shadow, therefore she needed no umbrella for shade to read the book she had already opened. Her crew brothers than proceeded to set up the umbrella she had abandoned.

"Oi, no slacking on the job rookie!" Thatch's shoulder rammed into my on as he rumbled past me with his arms full of a bright yellow inflatable raft. "Day dreaming is for after set up!" Thatch added a jump to his step as he breezed past me and strolled over to Mila.

Mila peeked up from under her hat and smiled up at Thatch and his yellow raft, it was so large that Thatch was forced to try and juggle it from arm to arm awkwardly. "Ah, dear brother, are you planning on braving the shallow waters of this fated cove." Mila mocked him sarcastically, adding a tinge of an old timey accent for effect.

"Why yes sister dearest, would you like to accompany me on my venture out to sea?" He inquired with a matching accent and an attempt at an eloquent bow, only inhibited by his giant yellow raft.

Mila briskly snapped her book shut and rose to stand, "Dear brother, I will accept your offer to go out to sea." She sauntered to Thatch's raft and place one of her pinky fingers on it and blinked away. A half a second later she appeared on the edge of the water, the raft floating in the lapping water. "Aren't you coming, dear brother?" she yelled to Thatch. Thatch bounded after her, his bare back facing me. His tattoo of Whitebeard's crest was tattooed on his back in the same purple of Mila's own mark. Under his tattoo was severe scaring, some of the worst I've ever seen, it was right to say that it rivaled Mila's own scars.

"You just can't seem to focus, can you?" Marco creeped up from behind me, starling me. "You might need this beach day more than anyone." He said in good humor.

"What?" Marco shook me out from my daze. My mind had been filled with all sorts of thoughts as Whitebeard's crew traipsed about on the beach, relaxing away from their position on their ship. They were freaks. I mean that in the utmost sincere way, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, their freakish way surely benefited them in their own way. Namur, a fishman, welcomed by few,had left Jinbe and was now floating on a bright pink raft next to Izo, a cross dressing sniper. Blamenco, a man whose entire body was made up of pockets, was building a giant sandcastle with Jozu, a diamond man. And Vista, a swordsman who was so skilled, that he face the greatest swordsman in the world and lived, was chopping up a pineapple with his swords. Then there was Mila and Thatch, floating off into sea on a giant yellow inflatable raft.

"You seem very deep in thought for someone on the beach." Marco commented causally, taking my load from my arms. "What seems to be bothering you this fine beach day?"

Out of all the thoughts I was swimming through, I decided to pick the one atop a floating on the yellow inflatable raft. "Is Mila safe? She should she be out there?" And as I spoke, I watched Mila dip her arms over the side of the boat and into the sea. I gasped as she let herself relax into the water over the side of the boat as Thatch paddled on, not a care in the world. "What is she doing?" I unintentionally jerked toward them, as if I could stop her from all the way over here.

Marco shrugged, "She's fine, and she likes playing in the water anyways." I unconsciously followed Marco as he went to go put down the load he had taken away from me.

All I could manage to sputter out past my incredulity was, "How?"

"She wore sea prism stone for a while, built up a weak immunity to the sea and the sea prism stone. Sure, it'll weaken her if she touches it or she'll drown in the sea, but Mila will put up a better fight than most." Marco explained. "Pops released her from her sort of imprisonment when she was ten after wearing sea prism stone for seven years. That's not unusual though."

"Wearing sea prism stone for seven years?"

Marco snorted at my completely serious comment, "No, Pops saving us. That's the deal with most of us. Some seek him out, in search of joining his invincible crew, but most Pops finds. Pops is a sucker for a good sob story. He can sniff them out in an instant."

"Do you kidnap unwilling assassins often?"

Marco considered that for a moment, "No," he said thoughtfully, "we don't. Most people we pick up are willing, happy actually. We generally don't have a family before meeting Pops, so we welcome his embrace."

I didn't say anything after he stopped talking. Even after Marco walked away to join a volleyball game, I stayed quiet. Mulling over the complexity that is the family dynamics of the Whitebeard life aboard the Moby Dick

Even the night after the beach day, I remained quiet. Barely saying a word to anyone during the beach day, or today. I was still hip deep in thought, so deep that I couldn't bother with my assassination attempt. I guess my impromptu vow of silence freaked people out, because everyone gave me a wide breath for the whole day. Maybe that's how I ended up here, sitting alone during dinner outside my room, leaning against the railing with my head in my hands. Lately I've started to eat with the crew, welcoming their laughs and yells, it was soothing, like being back on my old ship. That life seemed like it was another lifetime ago. Now everyone seemed too loud, their voices dulling my thoughts. The thoughts that had somehow turned into a tangled up ball of yarn. But every time I tried to untangle them and make sense of everything, their jovial voices would come stomping though and ruin my hard work.

Summoning me from deep within my consciousness was the light thud of a wooden owl landing next to me. I look up to see the back of Marco's purple shirt walking away from my and a bowl of Dom's best stew next to me. My self-control flying out the window, I asked the retreating Marco this, "You guys. . ." Marco turned to look at me as I spoke, "Why do you call him father anyway?"

Marco let a small smile slip through his eternally sleepy expression, "Because he calls us his sons." He said simply, "To the rest of the world, we're all just outcasts." a flash of yesterday's thoughts came seeping back to me, "It makes us happy." Marco settled down on a knee and faced me, his smile calming, "It's just a word, but it makes us happy!" Marco's eyes full of light as he spoke. I was looking him straight into his eyes when his expression changed. He lost his smile and his voice turned grim. "Hey, how long are you going to keep risking your life like this? Make up your mind." His voice forced my head back down into my arms, I couldn't bear to look at him as his words continued to flood out, "You can't take Pop's head the way you are now. So are you going to get off this ship and start over," I heard Marco raise from his knee and back away. I kept my head tucked away, I didn't want him to look me in the eye. Because if he did, I probably wouldn't be able to cage my feelings for long. "Or are you going to stay and take up Whitebeard's mark?" The sound of Marco's retreating footsteps were louder than the laughter of the crew on the main deck.

What was I supposed to do? I've lived aboard the Moby Dick for more than a hundred days, and even though I tried to kill its captain every day since, it still felt like home. How? I was the enemy! I shoved my head farther into my arms, like a camel does in the sand. If only that could stop the sandstorm in my mind, sweeping away rational thoughts. I had felt at peace on my ship, when I was captain and I had a crew of my own, but it was never like this. This was a whole new level of tranquility. It was like when I still lived with Luffy and Sabo was still alive. It was the feeling of family. I don't know how long I've felt like this, it might have been the first day, the day when Thatch imposed himself upon me and proceeded to reminded me so much of Luffy. Or it might have been Mila. Her willingness to beat the shit out of me brought me back those simpler days on Dawn Island. Even though she was nothing like Luffy or Sabo, she may have reminded me of myself. Harsh and abrasive. I don't think I'm willing to leave and start over, I might never admit this aloud, but the people on the Moby Dick are family. Even if they are cross dressers and fishmen. I don't think I could ever leave even if I tried.


	35. Chapter 34

**(A/N) **I have no excuse for my behavior, please take this chapter as a sacrifice for my poor performance.

Chapter 34

Third POV

"Marco, be gentle please!" Ace moaned softly from his place on his back.

"It's okay," Marco soothed, "I'll be easier on you." He assured Ace.

"You little chicken shit," Mila muttered from her spot by the railing of the sparring deck. The amusing sight of Marco beating the shit out of Ace had been holding her attention for only a few minutes before, at least until Marco had flipped Ace over his head and planted him firmly on his back, putting an end to her entertainment. Ace's freshly tattooed back was still tender with Whitebeard's mark. Which, incidentally, was the same ostentatious purple as Mila's and Thatch's own marks. "You could at least give it some effort." Mila egged Ace on as he pushed himself up off the boards of the deck.

"Oh shut up Mila, you're not helping." Ace shoot back, giving Mila a look. Even after joining the crew and taking up Whitebeard's mark, Mila still held some sort of vendetta against him. Her rude and cheeky comments continued to flow endlessly from her little smart mouth. "It's not like you could do any better." Ace spread his feet into a beginning stance, prepping for his next bout with Marco.

"I think I can." Mila blinked from her spot and landed on the tips of Ace's toes, quickly crushing them.

"Shit Mila! Watch where you blink!" He yelped as he jumped back from under Mila's tiny feet.

"Oh shush fire brains," Mila absently waved him off, "I want a go at Marco." Already pulling out her tonfa. A very scary look sculpted her face.

"No." Marco's hands shoot up in a stance of submission, "You fight dirty, so I'll pass."

Ace looked passed Mila in mocking disbelief, "Are you serious? She's fourteen!"

"Oh yeah, when she comes at you with that sea prism stone, no extremity is safe." The look in his eye hinted which extremity he was talking about and Ace grimaced at the thought.

Mila smirked at Marco, taking pleasure from reliving the fond memory, "It's been ages, Marco." Mila droned, "Let me at you!" Hopping from foot to foot like an energizer bunny.

"NO," Marco asserted, making a big X with both his arms "I'm too old for that shit, totally off limits at the moment. But, you guys go at it." He said, and waved his hand between the two of them.

"Hey wait a-"

Mila cut off Ace's attempt at refusal, "That's not a terrible idea, especially for you, pineapple head." Mila nodded thoughtfully as she spoke.

"Wow, thanks Mila," Marco mumbled under his breathe, Mila either didn't hear him or chose to ignore him, because she continued on.

"We never did quite finish our first stint." Ace winced at the thought of their first meeting, his back aching at the thought. Mila really did fight dirty. She spun towards Ace now, shifting her sights on a new target. "I really like that idea actually." The scary smile was back with a vengeance.

"Now Mila, maybe it's not the best idea. . ." Too late. The fourteen year old girl lunged. Ace shoot to the ground to avoid the impending collision with her. "Mila!" She ignored him and lunged again, the butt of her left tonfa aiming for his gut. He narrowly missed the impact by rolling to her right, hoping to keep to her weak side. Her jab collided with the sturdy thud, she used the momentum from the missed strike to roll past him. Landing in a crouched stance, Ace was back on her left side and she was preparing for another attack. Still on the ground, Ace tried to jab a kick at Mila to set her off balance. Mila disappeared before he had the chance.

"Really?" Mila quipped from behind Ace, "Those artless moves are nothing against my haki!" Ace jerked around to see her crouched behind his head.

"You use haki?" Ace puffed as he swung around and let a punch fly at her face, not holding back. She was gone in an instant.

Her voice was once again behind him, "With that and my devil fruit, no one can land a punch, especially you." Mila spun on her toes and used her momentum to put the strength she lacked behind her swing. With the sea prism stone wrapping around her tonfa, it could properly injure Ace, but her perfect strike only bounced off his side. She tsked at his look of triumph. Physically, Ace was superior in every way. His height, muscle mass, age, all exceeded her own, everything but his intelligence was greater than her own. And she was going to use that to her own advantage.

Ace continued to aim for her weaker side, thinking that was the easiest way to end the battle. He hadn't been thrilled when they had first start, but now he just wanted it to end, this singular fact was making him irrational. More irrational than a guy that already had flames for brains. If he was so desperate for the end, Mila would step up her game. Blinking behind him, Mila swung down on the same pressure point she had struck during their first battle. It took most of Ace's strength not to crumple under Mila's tonfa. She did play dirty. Pain radiated down his back as he braced for Mila's next attack. She was blurring around him, blinking too fast for him to follow. For a split moment, Ace saw her clear figure to his left. Her tonfa poised for his neck. He caught it just before it could slam into his flesh. Ace could only savor her look a shock for a moment before she tried to escape his grasp. She tried to pull her tonfa from his grip, but it was locked in his steel trap of a fist.

"Let go Fire Fist," Mila hissed as she tried to yank her tonfa from his grip.

"Never." Ace leered at her as his tightened grip and wrenched up. She lost her footing as Ace used one hand to fling her into the air. The sudden movement dislodged her hand from her tonfa, which still remained firmly in Ace's clasp. The single moment it took for Mila to arrange her thoughts enough to blink was a moment too long. Ace had grabbed her ankle as she flew past him and was now hauling her back down to the ground. As Mila made impact with the ground, all the air was knocked out of her chest, leaving her heaving on the sparring deck floor gasping for breath like a fish out of water.

For a split second, the whole deck was silent at the sight of Mila on the ground, defeated. The silence was broken by Thatch, who starting a slow clap. Soon the large crowd that had gathered to watch Ace and Mila's fight followed Thatch's suit and clapped along with him. Instead of getting up, Mila started to bang her head against the boards as her loving brothers started cheering for Ace. It got even worse when Vista and Fossa hefted him up on their shoulders and proceeded to make a victory lap around the sparing deck. She couldn't quite bang her head hard enough to drown out their noise.

"You little butt munchers," Mila mumbled, "you're loyalty is worth shit." Mila squeezed her eyes shut and blinked from the floor of the sparring deck to the floor of Whitebeard's study. His nice quite study was welcomed. "Dad, I think I'm having an emotional breakdown."

"Ah Mila, the perfect brat I was looking for." Mila pried an eye open to sneak a peak of a sly looking Whitebeard.

"For a mission?" Mila probed. Whitebeard had barley gave her any solo missions recently. The only time Mila ever got off the boat was to go to Marineford, but they've upped their security and her little escapades were getting risker as time went on. More than anything, Mila wanted to be the second division commander. And the only way she could ever accomplish that was if her brothers started trusting her with more responsibility.

"Of the sorts." Whitebeard admitted

"Then I'm all ears." Mila chirped, "I'm up for anything though, pillaging, murder, arson, even some simple vandalism."

"Nothing as complex as that." Whitebeard assured her, "Just receive Ace for me. I have something to discuss with the brat."

"You're fucking with me, right?" Mila deadpanned, her fluttery happy hopeful butterflies were sprayed down viciously with some heavy duty dream killing pesticide. "You want to talk to Ace?" The last person she wanted to talk to.

"Yes," Whitebeard folded his hands together in his lap, "is this supposed to be a problem?"

Mila twisted her face into a very unattractive expression. One of mixed mental exhaustion and supreme annoyance. "Of course not, Dad." Mila heaved out alongside a sigh, "I'll grab the little fucker."

She only caught half of Whitebeard's thank you as she blinked back to the sparring deck. She planned her blink so she would fall from about fifteen feet in the air, hopping that on the off chance of someone's head was under her, she would crush it. Instead of splattering her brother's brains on the deck floor, Mila landed in a crouched position that sent vibrations up her ankles.

Her brother's had lowered Ace from their shoulders when Mila made landing, but there was still an air of excitement. Ace's back was to her as he talked to his adoring fans about his conquest. His mark still looked sore from the application, a giant red target on his back. How could she ever ignore that? She only had one of her tonfa since Ace had commandeered her other one, so she snapped the one she had into her left hand and swung. Mila was happy to hear the fleshy smack of his back against her tonfa.

Ace bowed his back after the successful impact, "Shit!" he screeched. He spun around with a hand supporting his back tenderly. "Mila? What the hell was that for?"

Mila shrugged, "I was just trying to get your attention, and it's your fault for having flames for brains."

"That's no reason!" he yelled at her.

"Whatever," Mila flipped a piece of hair over her shoulder, "Dad is looking for you. Unfortunately."

"Really?" Ace said, "What does he want?"

Mila glared at him, "How in the all the seas am I supposed to know, I'm just the fricking messenger." She mumbled the little ending bit under her breath.

"Well, okay then, lead the way." Ace waved an arm out to the side.

Mila rolled her eyes, "I'm not your fucking guide, and I'm a fucking pirate for god's sake." Mila blinked from the deck.

Thatch let out a low whistle after Mila left the sparring deck in an awkward silence after Mila's calamitous mood, smothering the celebratory attitude that had previously blanketed over them, "You sure know how to piss her off," Thatch wrapped an arm around Ace's shoulder and pulled the boy closer, "from one professional to another, how do you do it. I can never seem to push Mila past her boiling point but you," he shook Ace, "you my boy, excel at it."

Ace sagged his shoulders underneath Thatch's weight, "Sorry to break to you, but I think it's just my existence in general the pisses her off."

Thatch let his head bob in understanding, "Well, you have a gift rookie."

"If you say so."

Mila was huddled in one of the arms of Whitebeard's discarded coats while reading in Whitebeard's office, waiting for Ace to arrive. She had grumpily grabbed a book of horror stories to soothe her abysmal mood, and found the comfort of Whitebeard's coat perfect for hiding.

Marco, wandering into Whitebeard's office, examined the sight of Mila in Whitebeard's coat for second. Only the girls blue head was seen as she flipped though her book with a bothered expression claiming her face, even though she was reading. An activity which usually calmed her.

Marco continued towards Whitebeard, leaving Mila's problem for another time. "So who are you calling in for the job, Pops?"

Relaxing in his chair, Whitebeard's smile shown from under his mustache, "You'll have to wait and see, brat." Marco frowned at his father's playful attitude, he seemed to up to something, because he was beginning to resemble Mila or Thatch when they come up with some halfcocked idea. He let it slide and propped himself up against the wall.

The office door opened once again to reveal the victorious Ace, trailing behind him was his cheering squad, including Thatch, Vista, and Fossa. Those three came in singing a tone of their own creation. An annoying tone, in Mila's opinion. _"The great magnificent Ace, with loads and loads of grace, defeated the Blinking Child, with a giant sized smile!"_ They chorused out of tone.

"I hate people." Mila muttered, shrugging further in the sleeve.

"What do ya need?" Ace said over the continued singing, looking past Mila and Marco towards Whitebeard.

Marco shot a look at the singing trio, "Boys, could you take the show on the road?" They didn't move. "Get out." They scuttled out of the office at Marco's glare.

"I'm sending you out on your first mission, boy." Whitebeard said after his singing sons exited the office.

"A mission?" Ace asked skeptically.

Whitebeard leaned further back in his chair, "Yes, one that is of upmost importance."

"Upmost importance?" Ace repeated dumbly.

"Marco," Whitebeard looked over at his son, "details please."

Pushing himself off the wall, Marco cleared his throat, "This mission was first assigned to my division, there was a rumor going around about a new drug floating throughout Foodvalten. As Foodvalten being our territory, we couldn't allow this to continue any longer. I sent Arlo to investigate three months ago. After I didn't hear from him past our scheduled call, I sent Rey to contact him. Then I sent Turner and Major and Jaron and Franco. I haven't heard from any of them." Marco said, a gloomy air had weighed down on the room. Mila had closed her book and was listening intently now. "Pops and I now want you to go to Foodvalten to recover your brothers at any cost. If you happen across a drug trade, feel free to shut it down. But our family is the first priority."

"This," Ace sounded hesitant as he spoke, "sounds important."

"Yeah, it really does." Mila spoke up, "Why are you giving this job to the rookie again?"

"Let's look at it like a test of faith." Whitebeard said calmly.

"We'll see how this goes before bigger things." Marco finished.

Ace waited before he spoke again. There was nothing bigger than family to the Whitebeards. Ace had firmly accepted the family duty that came with their mark, he welcomed it actually. This was the next step. "Okay." Ace finally said, "When do I leave?"

"As soon as possible." Whitebeard and Marco chorused.

As soon as possible turned out to be a few hours later. Ace had wrangled a spare skiff from Fossa and his ship hands and had stolen a truck load of food from the kitchen while Dom was putting out a fire in the mess hall that spontaneously appeared.

Ace was readjusting his eternal log pose directed towards Foodvalten when the boat started to shake after a slight thud echoed throughout the wood. Ace shot around at the noise.

The one and only Blinking Child was standing on the tiny deck of the skiff holding a giant duffel bag. "Yo." Mila said.

Ace nearly fell over board at the sight of her, "What the hell are you doing here Mila?"

She planted her duffel bag on the deck, getting herself plenty comfortable, "You think I'm going to let _you_ find _my_ brothers? Hell no."

"So what then?" Ace asked, still confused on way she was there.

Mila rolled her eyes dramatically, "I'm coming with you fire brains, duh."


	36. Chapter 35

**(A/N) **Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays

LB

Chapter 35

Third POV

How hard would it really be to off Mila? She was only fourteen for grand line sake. Would it be too shallow to grab her by surprise while she was sleeping? It was easy enough in the small quarters of the skiff they were traveling on. Maybe he could whack her over the head with one of her giant ass books. The massive duffel bag she had dragged into the skiff along with her own helpless self was only filled with books and a few random pieces of clothing. You'd think if she was planning on helping him that she would at least bring along more supplies, but there was not a single useful thing with her. Those books might be worth a pretty berry if he sold them after her untimely demise. The really big ones especially.

Said Mila looked up from her book. She could feel Ace's dissecting gaze as she flipped through her novel. His face was screwed up in frightening concentration, as if trying to solve a particularly nasty philosophical question. He looked as if he was contemplating life itself, or ate a particularly sour blueberry. Either way, it was one of his more unattractive looks. "Are you constipated? Because there's only one bathroom and I want a solid warning before hand."

Ace twisted his mouth in more serve concentration after she spoke. She is even more annoying when she talks, Ace thought to himself silently.

Mila rolled her eyes him, "Are we almost there?"

Ace kept his gazed leveled at her as he spoke, "You would know that if you were the one navigating."

"I'm just observing, remember? It would be cheating if I helped." She said, looking back down to her book while smirking, "Even if my navigational skills are superior to yours."

"We're almost there, half a day more at least."

"Finally," Mila breathed, "I don't think I could last much longer."

"Mila," Ace started seriously, "do you really still hate me?"

Mila kept her eyes glued to her book and her face expressionless. "People say hate is a strong word, but I personally believe words like antipathy or abhorrence are much sturdier." She paused and Ace feared the worse. He didn't hate Mila, he hated the way he acted towards him. Ace had clearly seen her smile and laugh with her brothers, when he overheard her conversations, he was surprised to find out he liked her personality, but she had only ever showed him animosity. "I don't have any sort of antipathy towards you, or even hatred. I don't trust you," This wasn't much better than what Ace had feared. "You crash into my home and tilt my world a whole 90 degrees and change everything. I don't like change, I was very content with my life for the past four years, they have been the best of my life, and now it's different. I don't know how exactly you'll affect my life from now on, so I don't trust you till I find out."

"I don't want to ruin or change anything."

"You might not know till it's too late."

They rode the rest of the way to Foodvalten in silence.

When lading on a supposedly drug infested island, one would assume they would land among the slums and bums, not in a bustling, oddly cheerful port.

Mila had set her book aside when Ace had announced that they were within sight of the island. Foodvalten was enclosed by towering cliffs dotted with trees and other greenery, the bluffs soared high above the island. The only entrance to the island was a break in the cliffs, the Whitebeard flag hung proudly in the gap. Mila craned her head to gaze up at the flag as they smoothly sailed into the island's harbor, sun gleaming down on the pleasant spring island.

"Did you know that," Mila started as they were within sight of the small harbor town, "the natives of Foodvalten were feathers on their head. One of their oldest customs."

"No, I did not know that Mila." Ace commented dryly as he slowly steered the skiff into the harbor.

"The soil is so fertile here that even in times of war and drought that the plant life can still flourish endlessly. That is one of the key elements that makes the food made by the world renowned chefs here so delicious. The dirt." She proclaimed.

"The dirt?" Ace said, "And here I thought it was the so called 'world renowned' chefs that made the food so good."

Missing his sarcasm, Mila continued, "That's only part of it. The cooking programs here are so intense here that out of hundreds of child applicants, only about a dozen are chosen."

"All very interesting, but is this supposed to be important?" Ace grumbled as he narrowly missed a leaving boat. The men aboard the boat waved down at them as they whizzed past on their vessel. "I thought we weren't talking."

Mila kept her eyes on the island, "I'm simply educating you. These are the things you should know before going out on a mission."

"It's my first time, give me a break. I was pushed off the ship pretty fast, not a lot of time to prepare don't you think?"

"So," Mila shot Ace a stupid grin, "you have no plans what so ever at this time and point?"

"Not any in great detail," Ace mumbled.

"And you see, that is the reason I'm here, I'm a superlative strategist."

"I thought you helping me was cheating?"

Mila absently twirled a piece of her stormy blue hair, considering his question. "Well," she decided, "if you're stupidity is threatening my own well-being," she flipped the tip of her hair at his face. "And in this case, I personally think it is, I don't consider it cheating."

Ace puffed out his cheeks in irritation, "Whatever, what's you're big strategy then, Miss Superlative Strategist?"

"I'm so glad you asked," Mila smirked and whipped out a map from her book, smoothing it out on the boards of the deck. "There are only three prominent towns in Foodvalten." Mila whipped out a finger and jabbed at a point on the eastern side of the island, "Yukihira, this is where you find those world renowned chefs and their five-star restaurants. We'll be staying here. I called in a favor from a friend, she owns one of the resorts there and offered us a room." She dragged her finger across the map to the right, "Broadus is our main suspect for production. Taking up the whole western side of the island with fields and labs, Broadus is a town for the farmers and scientists of Foodvalten. Nothing food related about the town. They produce narcotics, a variety of drugs, and alcohol."

"There's a whole town dedicated to drug production?" Ace asked, a little dumbfounded, "And we just let that go on?"

"Of course," Mila scoffed, "we're pirates after all, who are we to say they can't make their drugs."

Ace frowned, "Then why are we here? I thought we were going to investigate some drug trafficking that had to do with the missing crew members, if you already knew about this whole town of druggies, then why are we here?"

"Because this is different," Mila grumbled, her eyes taking on a steely quality, "We, mostly me these days, keep a record on each and every drug they produce in Broadus. We monitor their distribution too, just to make sure nothing gets out of hand. Never," she said, "have we ever had a case similar to what we are investigating, never had we had our own people get hurt before."

"Do we know exactly what this mysterious drug does?"

"No, only rumors."

"So how do we know what we're looking for?"

"That's our next stop on Foodvalten," Mila dragged her finger back over to the eastern side of the island, "This is Corningstone, if you thought that Broadus was a party, you're mistaken. The good men and women of Corningstone are dedicated to fulfilling any and every sexual fantasy you can come up with. A town of whores."

Ace cleared his throat uncomfortably, "That sounds . . . unsanitary."

"Not in the least. All the doctors in Foodvalten live in Corningstone, everyone in and out go through _deep_ physical examinations. They're strict too," Mila grumbled, glaring at the spot on the map, "they won't let anyone under the age of eighteen within 100 meters of the place. Even me, and I'm a Whitebeard!"

Ace pulled up an eyebrow, "Are you interested in that sort of thing?" humor laced his tone.

"No," Mila huffed, "I was just curious. My brothers always go there when we visit and I was feeling left out."

Ace choked on a laugh, "And that's where you think they're distributing? Why?"

"Most illegal activity is centered around Corningstone. Some of the doctors there like to make a little extra off the top, so dealing drugs is nothing suspicious. This rumor drug fits the criteria of what someone would like to use in Corningstone."

"You didn't answer me before, what does this drug do?" Ace was honestly afraid of the answer.

"From rumors I've acquired, the drug is supposed to dull a person's inhibitions, making them more susceptible to suggestions."

Ace grimaced, "Why would someone take that, no high or other fun stuff? I see no reason for it."

Mila shrugged, "Its only rumors, we can only speculate at this point. I only need to know that whatever we find, and whatever it does, that we have to destroy it."

"I guess that answer is good enough for me," Ace said as he steered the skiff into a tiny spot the deck hands had directed to him. The boat bounced as it hit the dock.

"It better," Mila jumped off the skiff, scooping up her book and grabbing her bag in one giant swoop. Not offering Ace help as she skipped to the end of the dock. Ace noted her lack of help, and decided not to mention it to her, he wasn't sure if he liked silent Mila or talkative, annoyingly sassy Mila better.

By the time Ace had secured the skiff with multiple ropes and knots, and tipped the deck hands, Mila was cheerily chatting up a local. Ace could tell it was a local from the man's feather sticking out of the back of his head. As Ace wandered over to them, his supplies piled over his shoulder, he heard them chatting rapidly in a language that sounded similar to the clunks and clicks of a chicken. Pulling his hat up onto his head, shielding him from the sun, Ace leaned against the side of the building not far from Mila. He watched them curiously, not even attempting to follow their conversation. Mila looked so pleasant and friendly talking to the man. He might even venture out on a limb and say she looked cute. Like one of those really fat baby birds that waddle around the nest and that chirp constantly.

Mila and the native man exchanged a weird handshake that involved what looked like a fist bump, and parted ways. She twirled around to look at Ace, still jovial from their conversation, "That was one of the natives, I was doing some reconnaissance and-"

"You really jump into these missions, don't you?"

Smirking, Mila continued "And he said the best place to get food on the docks is that way," She pointed behind her.

Ace let loose a laugh, amused at the little glint in her eyes, "So you're not all business all the time?"

"When I'm here," she started "food usually comes firsts, then business and if all that's done, hot springs and spa days come next," Mila winked at him, enjoying herself immensely.

"Is this your favorite territory then?" Ace asked, trying to keep Mila talking and in a good mood as they walked.

"Favorite territory?" Mila contemplated the question carefully, "Foodvalten would be in my top five for sure, but I don't think its number one. That spot most definitely belongs to Fishman Island," she concluded.

"Oh, Fishman Island you say?" He pulled up an eyebrow while a previous memory came to light, "Does this have to do with a certain boy?"

A blush erupted across her cheeks, "What?" she said shakily, avoiding eye contact, "What boy?"

Ace chuckled, "Don't think I haven't forgotten of your fishman? Everyone is always talking about how good of a kid he is."

Her blush deepening, Mila looked down at her feet, refusing to look him in the eye.

"I think I spoke to him once," Ace recalled, "His name is Killian, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mila mumbled, silently wishing the burning in her cheeks would disappear.

"Of course you do," Ace rammed his shoulder playfully against her. He was taking great pleasure in Mila act like a flustered teenage girl, it reminded him that she wasn't a scary encyclopedia killing machine resembling a teenage girl. "There's no reason to be embarrassed, everyone has crushes when they're younger."

Mila whipped her head up to glare at Ace, a glare he recalled from the days when they were at each other's throats, in a complete literal sense. "It's not a crush!" Mila hissed, stomping further in front of him.

Oh, _oh_. Apparently this was much more than a crush, "Have you told him?" Ace said, in what he hoped was a soothing voice.

"Why would I listen to your advice," Mila yelled, spinning around so he could get the full frontal force of her teenage rage, "You're probably going to die alone!"

Ace was going to assume the answer was no then, "I may die alone, but I am packing a few years' worth of romantic experience you have yet to gain," he said, patting the space over his heart with what he hopped looked like pride. More like no years, but he'd keep that tidbit to himself for the moment, "Boys are stupid, you're going to have to spell it out to him if you're going to get anywhere."

Her face was scrunched up in severe concentration, focusing on Ace himself. Just looking at her made his brain hurt, he could tell she was weighing every variable in her head as she considered his words. He only hoped she didn't pick up on his bluff. The part about stupid boys was true, he had personal experience with that, but he was honestly bullshitting her at the moment.

She seemed to have reached somewhat of a conclusion within that blue head of hers because he face muscles got to relax a fraction, only a small fraction. "Whatever, I'll see you at the resort."

Then Mila did what she did best, disappear and leave him completely dumfounded on a strange island with drug trafficking, prostitutes and people with feathers sticking out of their head. This was going to be a long trip.


End file.
